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Found 291 results

  1. dangerdanger

    Pay per Fran [ESPAÑOL]

    English version in here. Mis padres siempre me educaron en la cultura del esfuerzo, por lo que a ninguno de mis amigos les sorprendió que a los veinticinco años me comprara mi departamento. Había trabajado mucho para conseguir la plata suficiente, haciendo horas extras, trabajando freelance los fines de semana y ahorrando todo lo que podía y gastando lo menos posible. Pedí un préstamo a un banco y eso fue todo. Me mudé apenas me dieron la llave y durante seis meses disfruté de la soledad y me relajé. Pasado ese tiempo decidí que lo mismo que había hecho para conseguir la mitad del departamento lo podía hacer para conseguir la otra mitad y para eso no iba a escatimar en nada. Si volvía a tomar trabajos freelance, un poco de horas extras y alquilaba una de las habitaciones que me quedaba libre, entonces no tardaría en juntar todo el dinero que necesitaba. Así fue como le comenté a mis amigos que tenía una habitación disponible para alquilar. A varios amigos les interesó pero ninguno tenía suficiente dinero para pagar el lugar, no era que yo cobrase demasiado, lo que pasaba era que ninguno tenía un trabajo que todavía les permitiera vivir solos. Los días pasaron y una mañana me llegó un mensaje de Fran: -¡Hey, me enteré que estas alquilando un cuarto y yo necesito irme de la casa de mis viejos! ¿Quien era Fran? Habíamos sido compañeros en mi trabajo anterior donde yo era desarrollador y él tester. Era un pibe jodón con quien siempre nos hacíamos bromas. No podría decir que fuese lindo, quizás si agarrabas tan solo su cara no dirías eso, pero había algo en la manera de ser que resultaba seductor, sumado a que tenía un cuerpo… ¿que digo? Un pecho enorme. No era lo que se dice musculoso, tan solo tenía las proporciones perfectas, hacía mucho deporte y le gustaba cuidarse. Practicaba lucha libre y eso debía mantenerlo bastante entrenado. Él siempre supo que a mi me gustaban los hombres, pero nunca le importó. Tenía bastante claro que le gustaban las mujeres por lo que siempre le pellizcaba el culo a alguno para molestarlo, ¡incluso a mí!. En él era tan normal como darte una palmada. Sin embargo todo lo confiado que era con los hombres, con las mujeres se desvanecía. Simplemente cuando una chica le gustaba demasiado apenas podía hablarle. Recuerdo también que muchas de las chicas “que no le gustaban” estaban tan calientes por él como yo y más de una le chupó la pija en el baño de alguna fiesta. La idea de vivir con Fran me excitó desde el primer momento. Me lo imaginaba desnudo en el baño de mi casa y la sola idea ya me servía para acabar. A la semana siguiente dejó caer su bolso en el cuarto vacío y se instaló en casa. Al principio las cosas fueron bastante normales. Ambos desayunábamos juntos y después cada uno se iba al trabajo. Yo volvía por la tarde y disfrutaba de unas horas solo para trabajar hasta que caía la noche y él llegaba. Los mejores momentos era cuando andaba por la casa solo en calzoncillos. Tenía un pecho enorme, tal cual yo recordaba, marcado y ancho. Fran me sacaba una cabeza por lo que si nos cruzábamos en el baño yo tenía la imagen perfecta de sus músculos. —¡Cuidado, enanin! —me decía cuando nos cruzábamos de esa forma y lo decía para molestarme pero a mi me excitaba. Fran necesitaba ahorrar plata pero a diferencia mía no tenía voluntad para trabajar y no gastar. Salía con amigos y se gastaba demasiada plata en cada salida. No me sorprendía que no lograse ahorrar dinero. Según me enteré por un amigo en común solía pagar para tener sexo y al parecer necesitaba tener demasiado sexo por semana. Otra cosa que hacía con ese hermoso cuerpo que tenía era lucha libre por lo que tenía esos trajes ridiculos de spandex que le quedaban de maravilla. Resaltaban sus anchos hombros, su pecho y su pija. Me lo imaginaba luchando con esa ropa con algún otro hombre vestido igual y la idea me alcanzaba para toda la noche. Las cosas comenzaron a cambiar una tarde que vino enojado de entrenar. El entrenador le había dicho que necesitaba ganar peso para competir en el torneo. —¿Cuanto tenés que ganar? —le pregunté. —Tengo que pesar 80 kilos —me respondió. No me parecía tanto y se lo dije. —¡Diez kilos de músculo! —me dijo como si fuera algo obvio— ¡Vos porque nunca ganaste ni un kilo en tu vida! ¡Apuesto que no levantás ni cinco kilos en el gimnasio! Para ganar tanto músculo tendría que comer muchisima carne, ¡con lo caro que sale!, tomar suplementos que son carísimos y además ir a un nutricionista. ¡No puedo pagar todo eso!. Más allá de que la idea de que se volviera más musculoso me excitaba y no tardé ni diez segundos en imaginarme una versión de Fran más fuerte y musculosa… con el pecho enorme y los brazos abultados… también era verdad que lo quería ayudar, al menos a que aprendiera a ser riguroso para conseguir lo que quería. Entonces le ofrecí que si durante un mes el podía enfocar todos sus esfuerzos en este desafío y usar la plata solo para sus objetivos entonces yo lo ayudaría. ¿Como? Durante un mes no le cobraría alquiler. —¿En serio? —me preguntó. —Pero solo si veo que te lo tomas en serio. —¡Obvio! ¡Ya vas a ver! ¡Me voy a volver una bestia! No sé si fueron mis palabras o las ganas que tenía de entrar al torneo pero algo en su actitud cambió de la noche a la mañana. Dejó de salir con amigos y se anotó todos los días en el gimnasio. Nuestra cocina se llenó de suplementos y la heladera de carne, pollo, verduras y otras cosas de las que ni siquiera sabía el nombre. Todos los días después del trabajo se iba a entrenar y llegaba para comer. Ahora él cocinaba para ambos y comía unas cantidades impresionantes de carne y carbohidratos. Tomaba sus suplementos de forma rigurosa y se iba a dormir para descansar lo suficiente. En pocos días noté la diferencia. Cuando salía de bañarse podía ver los cambios. Músculos sobre músculos se le marcaban en la espalda que de pronto había crecido unos cuantos centímetros. Sus hombros se volvieron más redondos y su pecho se marcó como si de pronto quisiera salirse de su cuerpo. Sus brazos se volvieron más grandes y sus piernas comenzaron a convertirse en jamones. Lo que también comenzó a suceder es que se tomaba duchas mas largas, después de las cuales siempre decía con una sonrisa y guiñándome un ojo: —Hay que atender a la bestia —y se rascaba la pija debajo de la toalla. Y así como él se masturbaba todos los días yo hacía lo mismo después… imaginando su cuerpo, sus músculos duros y fuertes y sobre todo su enorme pecho mientras crecía. El mes pasó pronto y una mañana me dijo: —Gané 5 kilos. ¿5 kilos? ¡Parecía como si hubiera ganado 20! Todos sus músculos se habían vuelto más grandes. —Lo que pasa es que perdí algo de grasa y gané más masa muscular. Y para remarcar su punto flexionó su brazo. Era enorme. —¡Felicitaciones! ¡Yo sabía que podrías hacerlo! Pero en lugar de sonreír se puso serio y me dijo: —¿Doble o nada? —¿Eh? —Doble o nada. Hacemos otro mes igual a este y si no llego a ganar otros cinco kilos te devuelvo toda la plata… —¿… y si lo lográs? Se quedó pensando durante unos segundos. —No te pago el alquiler por dos meses más… Más allá de que la diferencia de recibir o no el alquiler era importante, la idea de verlo crecer más aún me estaba calentando. —¡Trato hecho!—dije y le estreché la mano que me ofrecía. Fran apretó con fuerza. El mes siguiente fue una locura. Por alguna razón que desconozco Fran dejó de usar remeras de un día para otro. Todos los días veía sus enormes músculos pasearse por toda mi casa. Sus piernas todas marcadas, sus abdominales y su enorme pecho (cada día más grande). Cada día cocinaba cantidades más grandes de comida que comía frente a mi solo en calzones. Cuando terminaba se golpeaba la panza y sonreía. Era como verlo inflarse delante mío. Sus duchas eran interminables, era demasiado obvio que se estaba masturbando como loco. Y yo después de él, pensando en él y en lo enorme que se estaba volviendo. La noche anterior a que terminara el mes trajo una balanza. —Mañana es el gran día —dijo y se fue a dormir. A la mañana siguiente cuando me levanté ya había hecho el desayuno. Se estaba levantando incluso más temprano que yo. Solo llevaba puesto unos calzones calvin klein que le marcaban la pija… —¿Lees? —me dijo parado sobre la balanza. —92 kilos —¡Ja! —dijo y se bajó de la balanza flexionando ambos brazos— ¡Soy una bestia! Dicho eso se puso a comer. Yo todavía no entendía que había pasado, estaba demasiado dormido. Tardé unos segundos en hacer las cuentas, había ganado más de 5 kilo, ¿no? Los dos meses siguientes que había ganado para vivir gratis fueron más de lo mismo. E incluso llegué a creer que se había vuelto loco, era una persona totalmente diferente. Estaba obsesionado con las cantidad de la comida, con las horas de sueño, con las cantidades de pesos de cada ejercicio. Pero todo eso parecía estar dando resultado ya que crecía cada día más y no solo sus músculos eran mas grandes, estaba creciendo en altura. Una noche que salió de la ducha vi como su pelo rozaba el marco de la puerta. Pero no solo eso, sus hombros también. Se tuvo que comprar ropa nueva porque la anterior ya no le entraba. Sus brazos eran demasiado gruesos y su pecho parecía ser el doble que antes. Cuando los dos meses que había ganado gratis se terminaron algo cambió de repente. La semana siguiente usó remera todos los días. Yo me había acostumbrado a ver su impresionante cuerpo lleno de músculos pasearse por casa… ese enorme pecho al que imaginaba todo el tiempo creciendo cada vez más… Al quinto día le dije: —¿Che, Fran, pasa algo? —¿Por? —me preguntó él levantando la cara del plato de comida. —No sé… digo… estás como raro… —¿Yo? ¿Por? —No sé… digo… —jamás podría decir lo que pensaba… ni siquiera sabía lo que estaba pensando… Ahi Fran sonrió. —¿Me estás preguntando porque no ando más sin remera? —¡¿Que?! ¡No, obvio que no! —¿Entonces? —No nada… dejá… Esa noche se sentó frente a mi con su enorme plato de comida y me dijo serio. —Okey, necesito plata… Lo miré sin entender. —Con lo que gano no me alcanza y necesito plata. —¿Y que vas a hacer? Me miró serio, corrió el plato de comida y me dijo: —Quiero hacer un… trato… —¿Un trato? —Si… —¿Que clase de trato? —Bueno… ¿viste… viste como yo…? Lo miré esperando su respuesta. —¿Alguna vez pagaste por ver a alguien? —¿Eh? ¿De qué estás hablando? —¡Dale, chabon! ¡Ya sabés de lo que te estoy hablando! ¡Un stripclub! —Fran, no te sigo… pero no, nunca fui a uno de esos lugares. —Bueno, es un lugar donde uno paga por ver a minas… o tipos… bailar desnudas… desnudos… Lo miré sin poder creer lo que me estaba diciendo. Debajo de la mesa la pija se me puso dura en un segundo. —¿Me estás diciendo que te pague por verte desnudo? —Algo asi… —dijo sonriendo. —¡¿QUE?! —por dentro mi corazón estaba saltando de alegría pero al mismo tiempo no entendía que estaba pasando. —¡No pienses cualquier cosa! ¡Pensalo como un… win win…! Yo necesito plata… y vos… y a vos te gustan los tipos… digo… dado que a mi me gustan las minas con tetas bien grandes me imaginé que a vos quizás te gustaban los tipos… musculosos y fuertes… como yo… —¿Estás loco? —¡NO! Pensalo así…es como que me auspiciarías… me darías una mano… y yo a cambio te dejo ver mi cuerpo… mis músculos… ¡daaaale! ¡No me vas a decir que te dan ganas de ver el lomo que tengo! —… —Imaginate esto… vuelvo de entrenar a casa… y estoy todo duro… tengo todos los músculos enormes… tan duros que apenas puedo bajar los brazos…. ¿no te ganas ganas de ver lo fuerte que me estoy poniendo? —Estás loco… —dije y me levanté y me fui a dormir. Esa noche apenas pude dormir y me masturbé 5 veces antes de que sonara el despertador. Me levanté destruido. Fran comía el desayuno. Me senté frente a él intentando despertarme. —No dormiste nada, ¿no? —No… —¿Cuantas veces te pajeaste? —Cinco… —¡¿Cinco?! ¡Ja! ¡Zarpado! ¿Tanto te excita mi cuerpo? Dije si con la cabeza. —¡Que chabon! Y pregunté pensar dije: —¿Por cuanto tiempo? Fran me miró y sonrió. —Lo que vos digas. —Okey… vamos a probar con un mes y vemos. Se levantó y se acercó a mi silla. Me levantó como si no pesara nada y me abrazó apretándome contra su pecho. Después me soltó y sin esperar un minuto se sacó la remera con el movimiento más impresionante que vi en mi vida. Con ambos brazos agarró la parte de abajo y como si levantara una bandera se sacó la remera. Sus abdominales perfectos aparecieron uno encima de otro y después su pecho enorme… fuerte… —¡Vas a ver! —me dijo mientras flexionaba ambos brazos—¡Vas a disfrutar cada día de ver el lomo que tengo! ¡Me voy a poner enorme! Me voy a volver el hombre más musculoso que viste en tu puta vida y me voy a pasear delante tuyo para que lo veas. Me despeinó con una mano y se fue a cambiar para ir al trabajo. Ese mes fue una locura. Fran crecía como una bestia. Todos los días lo veía más y más grande y ya no solo se paseaba sin remera, sino que cada tanto flexionaba ambos brazos y me decía: —¿Y? ¿Que tal mis músculos? ¿Te gusta lo que estás viendo? ¡Me estoy poniendo enorme! Yo me quedaba mudo, viendo el tamaño imposible de su pecho. ¡Así tenía que ser el pecho de un hombre! A fin de mes no solo pesaba casi 100 kilos sino que además me sacaba dos cabezas. Cuando nos cruzábamos en el baño me decía cosas como: —¿Que tal la vista desde ahí abajo, putito? ¿Estoy demasiado grande? ¿Cuantas veces vas a pajearte hoy después de verme en bolas? —y flexionaba su pecho enorme y fuerte— Apuesto que tengo el pecho más grandes que viste en tu puta vida. En el gimnasio no hay nadie que tenga unas tetas como yo —dijo y mientras se masajeaba el pecho con una mano— No te das una idea la fuerza que tengo en mis pectorales, te apuesto a que puedo levantar más de diez veces tu peso. Cuando termino de entrenar tengo el pecho tan duro que apenas me puedo poner la remera. ¿Te acordas el traje de lucha que usaba cuando me vine a vivir acá? ¿Te imaginás como me quedaría ahora con estos músculos? ¿Te gustaría que me lo pusiera? Sin pensarlo dije que si… —¡jaja! Que puto que sos… Esa noche me masturbé sin parar hasta que me dolió la pija. Cuando llegó el mes siguiente le dije: —¿Como seguimos? Yo solo quería verlo sin remera… cada día más grande y musculoso… lo imaginaba teniendo que agacharse para pasar por la puerta. —Hagamos esto… ¿Que te parece si hacemos un arreglo por peso? —¿Por peso? —¡Claro! En lugar de que yo no te pague el alquiler… vos me pagas por kilo… —¿Por kilo? —Es así, ya hice las cuentas… vos ahora me estás “dando” esta plata que es igual al total del alquiler… ¿no? Si dividimos este numero por mi peso… da esto... ¿me seguís? Entonces pensé que quizás podemos bajar un poco el precio por kilo… de ese modo yo tendría que ganar aproximadamente… mmm… veinte kilos más para seguir sin pagar… ¿se entiende? Agarré la hoja donde había hecho todos los cálculos y la miré mientras pensaba: ¿20 kilos más de músculo? Fran ya era enorme, o sea podía aparecer en cualquier portada de cualquier revista de deporte. ¿Podía ganar más músculo? —De esa manera me estimulo a crecer y vos… podes verlo… ¿que te parece? —dijo y me guiñó el ojo— ¿Te imaginás lo que va a ser mi cuerpo con 20 kilos mas? Lo que pasó ese mes cambió todo. Yo había imaginado que Fran seguiría creciendo como venía haciendo hasta entonces… quizás un poco más lento, pero que todo sería mas o menos igual. Estaba muy equivocado. Ahi fui cuando vi lo que podían hacer los anabólicos. Al términar la primer semana fue como si de repente hubiera inflado todos sus músculos y los mantuviera todo el tiempo en tensión. Fue como si sus músculos adquirieran otra calidad, otra fuerza. Al principio no me imaginé lo que estaba pasando, pero algunas cosas me empezaron a llamar la atención. Poco a poco estaba más agresivo… —Mirá puto, mirá el tamaño de mis brazo —me decía y flexionaba sus brazos para después mirarme sobre su pecho como si mirara una basura— Así tiene que ser el cuerpo de un hombre…no esa mierdita enana que sos vos A veces se me acercaba demasiado y “sin querer” me empujaba: —Uh, disculpá putito, no te ví ahi abajo. A veces no me doy cuenta lo enorme que estoy. O a veces tan solo me decía: —¿Y? ¿Te está gustando lo que ves? ¿Que sentís al verme sin remera? ¿Te calienta mi pecho musculoso? No te das una idea lo fuerte que estoy. En el gimnasio estoy levantando como un toro. Después de cada una de esas frases yo solo podía encerrarme en mi cuarto a masturbarme. Una mañana de sábado recuerdo que me levanté temprano, fui a la cocina y me preparé el desayuno. Primero escuché la puerta de su cuarto abrirse y después los pasos de oso que daba Fran al caminar. Yo estaba preparándome el café cuando sentí su sombra enorme pasar por encima mío. Sin decir nada abrió la heladera y la volvió a cerrar. Cuando lo miré estaba tomando leche directamente del cartón. Solo tenía puestos unos calzoncillos que dejaban a la vista la enorme pija que todavía estaba un poco parada. Su cuerpo era una montaña de músculos. Sus piernas apretaban contra la tela del calzón pero su cintura era del tamaño justo, solo si seguías subiendo su cuerpo se ensanchaba hasta ser casi del tamaño de una puerta doble. Un pecho impresionante todo musculoso coronaba los abdominales marcados y a ambos lados unos hombros gigantescos con unos brazos abultados llenos de venas. Un poco de leche le cayó sobre el pecho y dibujó un río entre los pectorales gigantescos. Entonces me di cuenta que Fran me miraba. Me guiñó un ojo y tuve que irme despacio al baño y masturbarme con la imagen de su cuerpo desnudo y duro tomando leche. El último día del mes, después de desayunar, dijo: —Veni, putito. Vamos a pesarme. Se paró sobre la balanza pero ni siquiera se asomó sobre su pecho para mirar. —¿Que dice? Me agaché para ver. —125 kilos… —jaja… te dije… Yo no lo podía creer. O sea, se notaba la diferencia. Fran estaba enorme, una montaña de músculos todos marcados, uno sobre otros. —Me debes esto —me dijo mostrándome un papel con una cuenta. —¡¿Que?! —Es lo que habíamos arreglado… el arreglo era por kilo y ¿ves como acá dice que si pesaba 120 me pagabas exactamente lo mismo que el alquiler? Bueno, ahora peso 5 kilos mas que eso. Por lo que me debes esta plata. No es mucho… Yo no lo podía creer y me lo quedé mirando con la boca abierta. —¿Que pasa? ¿No me querés pagar? Su cara cambió de repente. Dio un paso hacia adelante y yo uno hacia atrás. Estaba contra la pared. —Te das cuenta que no es muy buena idea no querer pagarle a un hombre de 125 kilos, ¿no? Mirá el lomo que tengo… ¿Sabés lo que puedo hacerte con estos músculos? Eso bastó para que saliera corriendo a buscar mi billetera. Traje la plata y la puse sobre la mesa. Él la miró todavía enojado y en un segundo cambió la expresión. Con una sonrisa dijo: —Te estaba boludeando, enano. Quedátela, estos cinco kilos de músculo van por mi cuenta. Disfrutalos —dijo e hizo su pecho subir y bajar— Seguimos entonces con el mismo arreglo… ¿te parece? Solo que esta vez aclaramos que sin importar cuanto peso gane no me tenés que dar plata vos. ¿Te parece? Yo todavía estaba temblando. Dije si. —Pero si te parece podemos agregar esta otra hoja. Y me pasó una hoja con precios. Me miró con una sonrisa. La miré sin entender nada. —Te lo explico… esto que vez acá es el precio por tocar… y esto que vez acá es el grupo muscular. Por ejemplo si me querés tocar el pecho durante un minuto sale tanto… ¿se entiende? Mi cabeza de pronto se había detenido. —¿Que pasa? ¿Te lo tengo que explicar? ¡Es fácil, enano! La idea es que me pagues por tocarme. ¿O me decís que no te dan ganas de tocar estos músculos? Mírame el pecho… bueno, sale esto. Se paró y se fue a cambiar para ir al trabajo. Ese día llamé a la oficina diciendo que estaba enfermo. Me masturbé hasta que pensé que me moría. Después dormí y cuando faltaba poco para que Fran volviera a casa me fui a caminar. Mi cabeza no paraba de dar vueltas, nunca me había pasado algo como eso. Simplemente estaba perdido…. era una locura… O sea, era mucha guita. La verdad… ¿que estaba pensando? ¡No iba a pagar por tocarlo! ¡Era ridículo! Cuando volví a casa él estaba terminando de comer. Puse la plata en la mesa y respiré hondo. Fran sonrió, se limpió la boca con la mano, corrió la silla, abrió las piernas y mirándose el pecho con una sonrisa perversa dijo: —Todo tuyo. Incluso sentado me sacaba una cabeza. Yo era un enanito frente a un gigante musculoso. Me acerqué temblando y apoyé ambas manos sobre su enorme pecho. Era mucho más duro y suave de lo que había imaginado. Era impresionante, casi tan grande como mis dos almohadas. Era pesado y cada vez que lo levantaba caía de nuevo. De pronto lo puso duro y fue como si se volviera una roca. Comencé a masajearlo… —¿Te gusta enano? ¿Te gusta tocar mi pecho? ¡Así es un pecho de hombre! Salí corriendo y me encerré en el baño un segundo antes de acabar. No había llegado ni a tocarlo durante un minuto. Se imaginan como siguió todo. Bueno, yo no… nunca pensé que me podría pasar algo como esto. Cada día que llegaba a casa me decía a mi mismo que no iba a pagar más… que esperaría hasta la próxima semana… o bueno, hasta dentro de tres días… aguantaría hasta mañana… Cada día pagaba por tocarlo. Y cada día pasaba lo mismo. —¿Te gustan mis brazos? —decía y los flexionaba mientras yo lo tocaba— Apretá fuerte, dale. ¡Apretá como hombre! Ja, imagínate la fuerza que tengo que ni siquiera podes apretar un centímetro… ¡Dale apretá con fuerza, putito! ¡Mirá las manos de enano que tenés sobre mis enormes músculos! Lo toqué todo y cuando lo toqué todo varias veces trajo una nueva hoja con “promos”. “Cuerpo completo” o “después de entrenar” o “en pose”. Las probé todas… y al final del mes me di cuenta que había gastado todo mi sueldo. No podía creerlo, pero al mismo tiempo no podía parar… Al día siguiente fue Fran el que dijo: —Ahora no puedo, mañana. Se puso una remera sobre sus enormes músculos y salió. Esa noche no pude dormir y tuve que masturbarme de nuevo hasta que me doliera todo. A la madrugada lo escuché volver, pero no estaba solo. —Shhhh, no hagas ruido que mi amigo está durmiendo… —dijo en voz baja. A los cinco minutos la mina empezó a gritar mientras él se la cogía en su cuarto. Intenté masturbarme de nuevo pero solo logré que me salieran lágrimas de los ojos. Fran empezó a traer mujeres casi todas las noches. Algunas tuve que conocerlas ya que me las cruzaba en la cena y otras tan solo las escuché gritar… una… dos…. tres… cuatro… cinco veces… Fran estaba cogiendo por todo lo que antes no había cogido. De seguro estaba aprovechando toda la plata que yo le había dado por tocarlo para pagar por esas mujeres… porque no había duda de que eran putas… o sea… eran mujeres demasiado impresionantes como para no serlo… Una mañana después de que desayunásemos Fran, yo y una de ellas y de que ella se fuera sin siquiera saludarme le pregunté: —¿Cuanto te cobra? Fran me miró sonriendo. Su cuerpo estaba inmenso. Hacía varias semanas que no tocaba esos músculos y solo podía imaginar lo duros que estaban ahora. Estiró los brazos dejándome ver el tamaño de sus músculos. Estaba inmenso, nunca había visto un hombre tan grande. Dejó escapar una risa. —Ya no pago… —No entiendo… –Yo no soy el que paga… Lo miré sin entender. Se puso de pie para ir a su cuarto… su espalda era una montaña de músculos haciendo un trabajo perfecto. Cuando volvió traía un cajón. Adentro estaba lleno de fajos de billetes. —Son ellas las que pagan. —¡¿Que….?! ¿Me estás jodiendo? ¿Cuanto…? —¡ja! ¿Que pasa? ¿Querés saber cuanto cuesta que te coja esta montaña de músculos? —dijo y su pecho subió y bajó para después flexionar sus brazos… ¡Dios mío, eran enormes! Me quedé mudo. —Jaja, que puto que sos… Acá está el precio. Era imposible que alguien pagara… que una mina pagara… era mucho… ¿aceptaría tarjeta? ¿También era para tipos? —Vení que te muestro —me dijo y casi se me paró el corazón. Pero no fue lo que yo imaginaba. Se sentó en el sillón y prendió la notebook. Me senté a lado. Apoyó la notebook en la mesita y le dio play al video. Se dejó caer contra el respaldo y pasó la mano por arriba mío, me apretó contra su cuerpo —mi cachete apretado por su pecho— y dijo: —Vas a ver todo el show. La mina estaba en cuatro sobre la cama moviéndose hacia atrás y hacia adelante. Estaba filmado con el celular. Fran lo levantó y filmó el cuerpo de ella desde arriba y después se filmó a él. Todos sus músculos enormes y transpirados brillaban por la poca luz del cuarto. Era un compilado en el que se cogía a una mina tras otra. Algunas de parado. Otras contra la pared, otras las aplastaba bajo sus músculos. Era una locura…. pero lo que era una locura era el tamaño de su pija. Era imposiblemente grande. Fue entonces que puso su enorme mano sobre mi pantalón y empezó a acariciarme. —Mejor sin esto —dijo y me sacó el pantalón en un segundo. Mi pija estaba parada debajo de calzóncillo…. parada es una forma de decir… nunca tuve una pija grande… bueno, okey… la tengo bastante chica… Fran ahogó una risa y me empezó a masturbar con dos dedos. Cada dedo suyo era mas grande que mi pija. —Es como un pescadito —me dijo con tono de burla— ¿No se te pone dura? La verdad era que no se me ponía nunca muy dura… Estaba por decir algo cuando vi lo que estaba pasando en su pantalón. Era como si hubiera metido dos bananas… tres bananas en su bolsillo. —¿Querés ver una pija en serio? —dijo y con su otra mano llevó la mía hasta tocar su pija. Acabé en un segundo. —¡Uhhgg! ¡Boludo! —dijo y se limpió el semen en mi remera—. ¡Que chabon! Vení… encárgate vos de esta… Y se sacó el pantalón. La pija más grande que vi en mi vida se paró delante de mis ojos. —Tan grande como el resto de mis músculos… —dijo bromeando mientras me miraba y miraba su pija gigantesca—¿Y? ¿No vas a hacer nada? Con la mano temblando le agarré la pija. Era tan grande y estaba tan dura que no podía cerrar la mano. —Con las dos —me dijo. Y lo agarré rápido con la otra. Apoyó la cabeza contra el respaldo y se echó para atrás. —Mas fuerte. Su pija era mas grande que mi brazo extendido, era simplemente enorme y no pude imaginar quien podría aguantar… que mina podría soportar que se le cogieran con una pija tan grande. —Mas fuerte, enano. Todo su cuerpo estaba cubierto de músculos enormes, duros y brillantes. Incluso desnudo era como si tuviera una armadura puesta y su pija era una espada… un cañón. —Más fuerte… ¡dale! Estaba apretando con todas mis fuerzas, pero él apenas lo sentía. Se puso de pie y me levantó con una mano. Me cargó hasta el baño, prendió la luz y se paró frente al espejo. Todo su cuerpo musculoso brillando bajo la luz del baño. Me sentó en su pija y me dijo: —Hace como si fuera tu pija… ¡Dale! Me agarré para no caerme. —Imaginate que te creció una pija enorme de repente… ¡Dale! Imagínate que te podes a coger a todas las minas… que todas se mueren por chuparte la pija… por tocarte los músculos —y mientras decía eso flexionaba ambos brazos— que sos el hombre más musculoso del mundo, más fuerte que un toro y más duro que un tanque. Imagínate que empezás a ganar guita porque todos quieren tocarte los músculos y vos solo creces y creces y tenés una fuerza de la puta madre y estás todo duro y podes garchar por horas y horas y acabar una y otra vez. Ahhh… soy enorme. Mirá el lomo que tengo, putito. Mirá el tamaño de mis músculos. Soy una bestia… ¿sabes lo que hacen las bestias como yo? Cogen… Me bajó de su pija y me dejó en el piso frente a él con su pija apuntando a mi cara. Era el gigante musculoso más grande que había visto en mi puta vida. —Mirá putito… mirá el tamaño de mis músculos… imaginate lo que te haría si te garchara con esta pija… te rompería el culo… no podrías volver a sentarte en tu puta vida… ¿querés probarla? Apuesto a que me querés chupar toda la pija… —Si… —Jajaja, que puto que sos… está bien, esta corre por mi cuenta. Y con una mano en mi cabeza me sostuvo mientras me acercaba la pija. Era enorme, era demasiado grande, imposible que me entrara en la boca. —Abrí grande… jaja, te voy a romper la boca, boludo… soy enorme… Yo respiraba por la nariz intentando no ahogarme… —¿Que pasa, enano? ¿La tengo muy grande? Eso te pasa por querer chuparle la pija a un gigante como yo. ahhhh… Te rompería la boca solo porque sos un puto de mierda… Mirá el tamaño de mis músculos… Esto es un hombre… No esa mierda enana que sos vos… Mirá mis brazos… Mirá lo fuerte que estoy… Esto es un hombre… ¿Me escuchaste, putito? ¡Abrí la boca o te la rompo con mi poronga! Apuesto a que te morís de ganas de tocarme los músculos… No podes pagarlo enano. Estoy demasiado grande, demasiado duro, soy demasiado fuerte. Y ni bien acabó me atraganté y todo se volvió blanco y después negro… A la semana siguiente Fran había renunciado a su trabajo. Cuando yo regresaba de la oficina (lo más rápido que podía) encontraba el tacho de basura lleno de preservativos gigantes y ropa rota de mujer. Fran se había convertido en un prostituto… Con la guita que ganaba empezó a comprarse ropa de marca, perfumes, computadoras, celulares, todas cosas carísimas y para coronarlo se compró una camioneta tan enorme como él. Estaba cobrando tanta plata que me regalaba guita: —Comprate algo, putito. Pero yo solo quería pagarle… Quería tocar su enorme lomo… Ahora que yo apenas le llegaba a la cintura Fran se había convertido en un dios inmenso, fuerte y musculoso… y en mi bolsillo yo apretaba la plata que había sacado del banco. Un día encontré en el piso la hoja con los nuevos precios… Ni siquiera el sueldo de un mes me alcanzaría para tocarlo durante un minuto… Fran se había vuelto un prostituto VIP… Las mujeres que se acostaban con él eran millonarias. Mujeres que solo existían en las revistas y en la televisión. Y Fran se las cogía a todas. Tenía sus clientas regulares que lo amaban, que le tocaban el pecho y se volvían locas con su fuerza, con la enorme pija que tenía. Cuando desayunábamos juntos muchas veces alguna de ella dejaba caer un fajo de billetes sobre la mesa solo para tocarlo mientras él desayunaba. —¿Te gusta mi cuerpo, putita? —le decía él. Una noche llegó con tres mujeres. Con solo verlas se notaba que eran más grandes, quizás tendrían cuarenta años. Todas operadas, con las tetas enormes y llenas de guita, de oro por todos lados. Las llevó a su cuarto y se las empezó a coger… me di cuenta porque empezaron a gritar como locas. Pero de un segundo a otro se quedaron callados y entonces Fran entró en mi cuarto… desnudo. Era como si una montaña de músculos pasara de pronto por la puerta. Tenía todo el cuerpo brillante, cubierto de un aceite que lo hacía verse todavía más grande…. y su pija… gigantesca… parada… dura como un tronco… un mástil frente a mi que estaba acostado en mi cama… —Che, necesito que me hagas un favor… —me dijo desde arriba de sus increíbles músculos… era una bestia toda inflada— Necesito que me filmes cogiéndome a estas viejas… —¿Que? —Son clientas mias y quieren tener un video mío cogiéndomelas… Dijo eso y salió (agachándose para no destrozar la pared). Lo seguí. En su cuarto la ropa estaba tirada por todo el piso y en su cama estaban acostadas las tres mujeres, desnudas, con sus tetas inmensas, sus culos operados y con la cara y el cuerpo cubiertos de semen. —Awww que tierno tu amiguito… —dijo una. —¡Que precioso! ¿Nos vas hacer el favor? ¡Que ternura! —Queremos que lo filmes a él… y ese cuerpo musculoso que tiene cogiéndonos… Sos hermoso, Fran… Un semental… —Filmale el pecho, mirá el pecho enorme que tiene… ¡que macho! —Filmale la pija, mirá esa pija. —¡A mi primero! —gritó una y Fran se la cogió contra la pared, apretándola con sus músculos mientras ella le chupaba el pecho que la aplastaba. —Filmale la espalda, mirá esa espalda llena de músculos… mirá lo fuerte que es… —Mirá esas piernas… Dios mio… es una bestia… Y Fran se las cogió a todas dos veces y yo filmando todo. Cuando terminó se acercó a mi y yo retrocedí hasta quedar pegado contra la pared. Me sacó el celular y se puso a ver el video. Su pija parada todavía goteaba sobre mi cabeza, sus piernas musculosas y enormes me impedían cualquier movimiento. Olía a mucho sexo. Y todo el cuerpo le brillaba. —Bien filmado, putito… estoy enorme —me dijo y con una mano me despeinó me apretó contra sus piernas para luego acostarse en la cama con las tres minas. Los cuatro se pusieron a ver el video mientras ellas lo tocaban y lo besaban y mordían. —¡Gracias, precioso! –dijo una y me tiró un beso. —¡Que buen ojo! ¡Mirá como se ve todo tu cuerpo, Fran! ¡Estas enorme! ¡Mirá estos brazos! Pero una de ellas no decía nada y me miraba. Tenía los ojos grandes y una mirada que entendía las cosas. Se lamió los labios y dijo: —¿Como podemos agradecerte? —mientras le tocaba el pecho a Fran. Pasó su mano sobre esos enormes pectorales y después le agarró la pija todavía dura. —Fran, ¿como podemos pagarle a tu amigo? —¿A él? —me miró y me guiñó un ojo— Creo que ya está contento con verme coger… —¡Aw, en serio? ¿Es de “esos”? —Precioso, ¿así que te gustan los músculos de tu amigo Fran? ¿Viste lo enorme que es? ¡Mirá este pecho! ¡No hay ningún hombre con un pecho tan grande! ¡Que duro! ¡Aw, Fran, sos inmenso! —¿Fran, cuanto te debemos? —Ahi está la lista de precios —dijo él señalando la pared sin dejar de ver el video. La mujer de los ojos grandes se paró y se acercó a la pared. Leyó la lista de precios y después me miró. –Chicas… —dijo y regresó a la cama— ¿Que tal si le hacemos un regalo a nuestro amiguito? —¿Un regalo? —preguntó otra y cuando la primera le susurró al oido sonrió. —¡Un regalo bien grande y musculoso! —Aw, sí, ¿te da ganas, chiquito? ¿Querés saber lo que se siente que te coja el hombre más musculoso del mundo? Mirá el tamaño de esta pija, mirá los hombros que tiene. Mirá este pecho y estos brazos. Es un mancho inmenso y coge como los dioses. —Tomá, Fran. Esto es por lo nuestro y esto es por tu amiguito… queremos un servicio completo… así disfruta de todos tus enormes músculos… Fran se puso de pie y se acercó hasta aplastarme con sus piernas. —Parece que es tu día de suerte, putito —dijo mientras se masturbaba la pija llena de semen— Vas a poder disfrutar de todo mi cuerpo… —dijo y me levantó y me sentó en la punta de su pija, pero antes me arrancó la ropa de un tirón. Sentí su pija gigantesca contra mi culo y como se mojaba todo. Su pecho me apretaba contra la pared, intenté empujarlo con mis manos pero era como empujar una pared, una montaña llena de músculos. Fran estaba todo duro y caliente. —¿Que pasa, chiquito? —dijo una de las minas. Ambas se acercaron a Fran y empezaron a tocarle las enormes piernas. —¿No querías esto? ¿No querías tocar los enormes músculos de tu amigo? Mirá lo grande que es. Aprovecha y sácate las ganas de tocarlo. Mirá el pecho que tiene. Mirá estos brazos enormes, mirá lo grandes que son sus músculos. Uh, estás re duro, Fran. Tocale el pecho, dale. —¡Que flacucho de mierda que sos! —me dijo Fran. —¿Que se siente estar sentado en la pija más grande que vas a ver en tu vida? —preguntó una de ellas. —¿Te das cuenta que te va a romper el orto? —preguntó otra. —Intentá defenderte —dijo Fran apretándome contra la pared— Dale, empujá, empujá en serio, dale putito. ¿Que pasa? ¿Estoy muy grande? ¿Soy muy fuerte? —Abrile ese culito que tiene, Fran. —Te voy a mostrar como coge un verdadero hombre. Uh como te va a gustar esto —dijo Fran flexionándo ambos brazos. —Fran, queremos que pongas toda tu fuerza en romperle bien ese culito que tiene. —Ja! —se río Fran— Lo voy a matar solo con abrirsle el culo con mi pija. La tengo demasiado grande para un culo tan chiquito —y después mirándome a mi con una mueca dijo— Dale, enano, tocame todo, sácate las ganas, toca todos mis enormes músculos. Uf, estoy enorme. —Espero que estés preparado, chiquitín —dijo una de ellas—Te va a violar un semental de 200 kilos. Y eso fue lo último que escuché, antes de que Fran me rompiera el culo con su enorme poronga.
  2. dangerdanger

    Pay per Fran [ENGLISH]

    Spanish version in here. My parents always educated me in the culture of effort, so none of my friends were surprised that at twenty-five years old I bought my apartment. I had worked hard to get enough money, doing extra hours, working freelance on weekends and saving everything I could spending as little as possible. I asked for a loan from a bank and that was it. I moved as soon as they gave me the key and for six months I enjoyed the solitude. After that time I decided that the same thing I had done to get half the department I could do to get the other half and for that I was not going to skimp on anything. If I went back to do freelance, some extra hours and rent the room that was empty, then it would not take me long to collect all the money I needed. So I told my friends that I had a room available for rent. Several friends were interested but none had enough money to pay for the place, it was not that I charged too much, what happened was that none had a job that still allowed them to live alone. The days passed and one morning I got a message from Fran: -Hey, I was told you're renting a room! I need to leave my old house! Who was Fran? We had been partners in my previous job where I was a developer and he was a tester. He was a guy with whom we always joked. I could not say he was cute, maybe if you just see his face you would not say that, but he had something in the way of being that was seductive, in addition to having a body ... what could I say? A huge chest. He was not what I would call muscular, he only had the perfect proportions, he did some sport and liked to take care of himself. He practiced wrestling and that should keep him quite trained. He knew that I liked men, but he never cared. He was pretty clear that he liked women so he always pinched someone's ass to annoy him, even me! In him it was as normal as giving you a slap. However, everything that he trusted with men, with women just vanished. If a girl liked him too much he could barely talk to her. I also remember a lot of girls “he did not like" that were as hot for him as me. More than one got to suck his cock in the bathroom of a party. The idea of living with Fran excited me from the first moment. I imagined him naked in my bathroom and the idea alone was enough for me to cum. The next week he dropped his bag in the empty room and settled in. At first things were pretty normal. We both had breakfast together and then both would go to work. I came back in the afternoon and enjoyed a few hours just to work until nightfall just when he arrived. The best moments were when he walked around in his underwears. He had a huge chest, just as I remembered, marked and wide. Fran was a good head taller than me so if we met in the bathroom I had the perfect image of his muscles. —Careful, little man! -he told me when I stomped into him. That was hot! Fran needed to save money but unlike me he did not have the will to work and not spend. He went out with friends and spent too much money outing. I was not surprised that he could not save money. I knew from a friend he used to pay for sex and apparently he needed to have too much sex per week. Another thing he used to do with his beautiful body was wrestling, so he had those ridiculous spandex suits that looked great on him. They highlighted his broad shoulders, his chest and his cock. I imagined him struggling with that clothes with some other man dressed the same and the idea was enough for the whole night. Things started to change one afternoon that he came angry from training. The coach had told him he needed to gain weight to compete in the tournament. —How much do you have to gain? —asked. —I have to be 176.37 pounds —he answered me. It did not seem so much to me and I told him so. -More than 20 pounds of muscle! —He said as if it were something obvious— You say that because you never gained a pound in your life! I bet you cannot lift 10 pounds in the gym! To gain so much muscle, I would have to eat a lot of meat. Do you know how expensive is it?, I would also need to take supplements that are very expensive and also go to a nutritionist. I can not pay for all that! Beyond that the idea of him becoming more muscular excited me and it did not take me even ten seconds to imagine a version of Fran stronger and more muscular ... with a huge chest and bulging arms ... it was also true that I wanted to help him, at least for him to learn to be rigorous to get what he wanted. Then I offered him that if for a month he could focus all his efforts on this challenge and use his money only for his goals then I would help him. How? For a month I would not charge him a rent. —Really? —he asked. —But only if I see that you take it seriously. —Of course!! You'll see! I'm going to become a beast! I do not know if it was my words or the desire I had to enter the tournament but something in his attitude changed overnight. He stopped going out with his friends and he went every day to the gym. Our kitchen got filled with supplements and the refrigerator was full of meat, chicken, vegetables and other things I did not even know the name of. Every day after work he went to train and came to eat. Now he cooked for the both of us and he ate impressive amounts of meat and carbohydrates. He took his supplements rigorously and went to sleep to get enough rest. In a few days I noticed the difference. After every of his showers I could see the changes. Muscles over muscles appearing on his back that had suddenly grown a few inches. His shoulders became rounder and his chest marked as if he suddenly wanted to get out of his body. His arms became bigger and his legs began to turn into hams. What also began to happen is that he took longer showers, after which he always said with a smile and winking at me: —I had to care of this beast —he would say while he scratched his cock under the towel. And just as he masturbated every day, I did the same thing later ... imagining his body, his hard and strong muscles and especially his huge chest as he grew up. The month passed soon and one morning he told me: —I won 10 pounds. 10 pounds? It looked like he had won 20! All his muscles had grown larger. —What happens is that I lost some fat and gained more muscle mass. And to emphasize his point he flexed his arm. It was huge. —Congratulations! I knew you could do it! But instead of smiling he became serious and said: —Double or nothing? —What? —Double or nothing! We make another month like this and if I do not get to gain another 10 pounds I'll give you all the money back ... —… and if you do gain the 10 pounds? He took some time to think about it —I do not pay the rent for two months ... Beyond the fact that the difference between receiving and not receiving that money was important, the idea of seeing him grow even more was making me horny. —Deal! —I said and I shook his hand. Fran squeezed hard. The next month was crazy. For some reason that I do not know Fran stopped wearing t-shirts from one day to the next. Every day I saw his huge muscles walking around my house. His legs all marked, his abs and his huge chest (every day bigger). Every day he cooked larger quantities of food that he ate in front of me. When he finished, he would hit his belly and smile. It was like watching him inflate in front of me. His showers were endless, it was too obvious that he was masturbating like crazy. And me after him, thinking about him and how huge he was now. The night before the end of the month he brought a scale. —Tomorrow is the big day —he said and went to sleep. Next morning when I got up he had already made breakfast. He was getting up even earlier than me.He was wearing only calvin klein drawers that marked his cock… —Do you read? —he said to me standing on the scale. —200 pounds —Ha! —he said and climbed off the scales, flexing both arms. "I'm a beast!" Then he started eating. I still did not understand what had happened, I was too sleepy. It took me a few seconds to do the accounts, I had gained more than 10 pounds, right? The next two months he had won to live for free were more of the same. I got to believe that he had gone crazy, he was a totally different person. He was obsessed with the amount of food, with the hours of sleep, with the amounts of weights for each exercise. But all that seemed to be working as he grew more and more every day and not only his muscles were bigger, Fran was getting taller. One night when he came out of the shower I saw his hair brushing against the door frame. But not only that, his shoulders too. He had to buy new clothes because the previous one did not fit his huge muscled body. His arms were too thick and his chest seemed way bigger. When the two months that he had won for free ended, something suddenly changed. The following week he wore T-shirts every day. I had become used to to seeing his impressive body full of muscles walking around the house ... that huge chest that I imagined all the time growing more and more ... On the fifth day I said: -Hey, Fran, is there something wrong? -Why? —He asked, lifting his face from the plate of food. -Oh! I don’t know ... I mean ... you're acting kind of weird ... -Me? Why? -I don’t know ... I mean ... -I could never say what I was thinking ... I did not even know what I was thinking ... Then Fran smiled. -Are you asking me why I do not walk more without a shirt? -What?! No, of course not! -So? -Nothing ... fuck off ... That night he sat in front of me with his huge plate of food and told me seriously. -Ok, I need money ... I looked at him without understanding. -My salary is to low… and I need money. -And what are you going to do? He looked at me seriously: -I want to make a ... deal ... -A deal? -Yes… - What kind of deal? -Well ... did you see ... you saw how I ...? I looked at him waiting for his answer. -Did you ever pay to see someone? Or something? -What? What are you talking about? -Come one! You know what I'm talking about! A stripclub! -Fran, I don’t follow you ... but no, I never went to one of those places. -Well, it's a place where you pay to see girls ... or guys ... dance naked ... you know, naked ... I looked at him without being able to believe what he was saying. Under the table the cock became hard in a second. —Are you telling me to pay you to see you naked? -Something like that ... -said smiling. -WHAT?! - inside my chest my heart was jumping for joy but at the same time I did not understand what was happening. -Don't get any wrong ideas! Think of it as a ... win win… I need money ... and you ... and you like men ... I mean ... given that I like gitls with big tits I figured that maybe you liked guys ... with big muscles and strong ... like me ... -Are you crazy? -No!! Think it like this ... it's like you would sponsor me ... you would give me a hand ... and in return I let you see my body ... my muscles ... Come one! You're not going to tell me that you want to see the muscles I have! - ... -Imaginate this ... I come back home after training ... and I'm all hard ... I have all my muscles huge ... so hard that I can barely move my arms .... Don’t you want to see how strong I am getting? "You're crazy ..." I said and got up and went to sleep. That night I could barely sleep and I jacked off 5 times before sunrise. I woke up destroyed. Fran was eating breakfast. I sat in front of him trying to wake myself up. -You didn’t sleep anything, right? -No… - How many times did you jacked off? -Five… -Five?! Ha! Does my muscle body turn you on that much? I said yes with my head. -Ha! Crazy! I asked him: -How long? Fran looked at me and smiled. -Whatever you say. -Okey ... let's try for a month and see. He got up and came to me. He lifted me up as if I weighed nothing and hugged me, pressing me agains his huge muscled chest. Then he released me and took off his shirt with the most impressive movement I ever saw in my life. With both arms he grabbed the bottom of his shirt and as he was raising a flag he took off his shirt. His perfect abs appeared one after the other and then his huge chest ... strong and big… -You’ll see! -He said while flexing both arms- You are going to enjoy every day of seeing my muscles! I'm going to be huge! I'm going to become the most muscular man you saw in your fucking life and I'm going to walk in front of you for you to see it. He ruffled me with one hand and went to change to go to work. That month was crazy. Fran grew like a beast. Every day I saw him get bigger and bigger and he no longer just walked around without a shirt, but every so often he flexed both arms and said: -How about my muscles, little man? Do you like what you see? I'm getting huge! I was speechless, seeing the impossible size of his chest. That's how it had to be a man's chest! At the end of the month, he not only weighed almost 220 pounds, but he also was two heads taller than me. When we met in the bathroom he would say things like: - How’s the view from down there, little man? Am I too big? How many times are you going to jack off today after seeing my muscles? -And flexed his huge and strong chest- I bet I have the biggest chest you ever saw in your fucking life. In the gym there is no one who has tits like me —he said and while he massaged his chest with one hand— You don’t know the strength I have in my chest, I bet you I can lift more than ten times your weight. When I finish training, my chest is so hard that I can hardly put on my shirt. Do you remember the fighting suit I had? Can you imagine how would I look like with these muscles now? Would you like me to wear it? Without thinking I said that if ... -Ha! What a fag you are... That night I jacked off without stopping until my cock ached. When the next month arrived I told him: -How do we continue? I just wanted to see him without a shirt ... every day bigger and more muscular ... I imagined him having to duck to go through the door. -Lets do this ... What do you think if we make an arrangement by weight? - By weight? -Yeah! Instead of me not paying you rent ... you pay me for every pound ... -Per pound? -Look at this, I already did the numbers ... you are now "giving me" this money that is equal to the total rent ... right? If we divide this number by my weight ... this is the result ... do you follow me? So I thought maybe we can lower the price a little bit per pound ... that way I would have to gain approximately ... mmm ... 40 pounds more to continue without paying ... do you understand? I grabbed the sheet where he had done all the math and I looked at him while thinking: 40 pounds more of muscles? Fran was already huge… he could appear on the cover of any sports magazine. Could he gain more muscles? -You encourage me to grow and you ... you can see it ... what do you think? -He said and winked at me- Can you imagine how my body will look like with 40 pounds more? What happened that month changed everything. I had imagined that Fran would continue to grow as he had been doing until then ... maybe a little slower, but everything would be more or less the same. I was very wrong. That's when I saw what the anabolics could do. At the end of the first week he suddenly inflated all of his muscles and kept them tense all the time. It was as if his muscles acquired another quality, another strength. At first I did not imagine what was happening, but some things started to get my attention. He was more aggressive ... -Look fag, look at the size of my arm —he said and flexed his arms before looking at me over his chest as if looking at a piece of shit- This is how a man should look like ... not like a little shit like you Sometimes he would got too close and "unintentionally" pushed me: -Uh, sorry little man, I didn’t see you down there. Sometimes I forget how huge I am. Or sometimes he just told me: -Are you enjoing what you see? How’s it feel when you see me without a shirt? Do you get horny by looking at my chest? You don’t have an idea how strong I am. In the gym I'm working like a bull. After each of those phrases I could only lock myself in my room to jack off. On the last day of the month, at breakfast, he said: -Come on, little man. You are going to weigh me. He stood on the scale but did not even look over his chest to look. -What does it say? I crouched to see. -275 pounds ... -Haha ... I told you ... I could not believe it. Fran was huge, a mountain of muscles. —You owe me this —he said, showing me a piece of paper with some numbers. -What?! -It was what we had arranged ... the arrangement was per pound and do you see how it says here that if it weighed 260 you paid me exactly the same as the rent? Well, now I weigh 10 pounds more than that. And you owe me this money. It's not much… I could not believe it and I stared at him with my mouth open. -What happens? you don’t want to pay me? His face changed suddenly. He took a step forward and I stepped back. I was against the wall. - You realize that it is not a very good idea not to pay a 275 pound muscle man, right? Look at the arms I have ... Do you know what I can do with all these muscles? That was enough for me to run out and get my wallet. I brought the money and put it on the table. He looked at it still angry and after a second he changed his expression. With a smile he said: -I was fucking with you, little man. Keep it, these 10 pounds of muscle go on my own. Enjoy them, —he said and made his chest go up and down.— We continue then with the same arrangement ... that do you say? But this time we clarify that no matter how much weight I win, you do not have to give me money. Ok? I was still shaking. I said yes. -But if you want we can add these prices as well… And he gave me a sheet with prices. He looked at me with a smile. I looked at it without understanding anything. -Let me explain ... this number here is the price for touching ... and this is the muscle group. For example, if you want to touch my chest for a minute, it will cost you this much ... do you get it? My head had suddenly stopped. -What happens? Do I have to explain it again? It's easy, little man! The idea is that you pay me to touch me. Or you tell me that you don’t want to touch these muscles? Look at my chest ... well, thats the price. He stood up and went to change to go to work. That day I called the office saying I was sick. I jacked off until I thought I was dying. Then I slept and when it was almost time for Fran to return home I went for a walk. My head did not stop spinning, something like this had never happened to me. I was just lost ... It was crazy ... I mean, it was a lot of money. The truth ... what was I thinking? I was not going to pay to touch him! It was ridiculous! When I came back home he was finishing eating. I put the money on the table and took a deep breath. Fran smiled, wiped his mouth with his hand, moved the chair back, spread his legs and looking at his chest with a wicked smile he said: -Its all yours. Even sitting down he was a good head taller than me. I was a little kid in front of a muscle giant. I approached shaking and rested both hands on his huge chest. It was much harder and softer than I had imagined. It was impressive, almost as big as my two pillows. It was heavy and every time I lifted it it fell again. Suddenly he flexed hard and it was as it became a rock. I started to massage it ... -Do you like it, little fag? Do you like to touch my muscles? This is a man's chest should look like! I ran out and locked myself in the bathroom a second before I came. I had not even touched him for a minute. So you could imagine how everything went. I never thought something like this could happen to me. Every day that I came back home and I told myself that I was not going to pay more ... that I would wait until next week ... well, for three days ... I would hold on until tomorrow ... Every day I paid to touch him. And the same thing happened every day. - Do you like my arms? -He said and flexed them while I touched him- Press hard, come one. Squeeze like a man! Ha, imagine the strength that I have that you can not even squeeze a centimeter ... Squeeze harder, fag! Look at the little hands you have over my big muscles! I touched every part of his huge body and when I touched him several times he brought a new sheet with "promos"."Full body" or "after training" or "in pose". I tried them all ... and at the end of the month I realized that I had spent all my salary. I could not believe it, but at the same time I could not stop ... The next day it was Fran who said: - Now I can’t, lets do it tomorrow. He put a shirt over his huge muscle chest and left. That night I could not sleep and I had to jack off until everything hurt. At dawn I heard him came back, but he was not alone. -Shhhh, keep it quiet… my friend is sleeping ... -he said in a low voice. Five minutes later the girl began to scream while he fucked her in his room. I tried to jack off but I only managed to get tears out of my eyes. Fran started bringing girls almost every night. Some of them I had to meet them because he invited them to dinner and others just heard them scream ... one ... two .... three ... four ... five times ... Fran was fucking like a machine. Surely he was taking advantage of all the money I had given him for touch him to pay for those women ... I was sure that they were whores… One morning after we had breakfast Fran, me and one of those girls. The moment she left I asked: -How much did you pay? Fran looked at me smiling. His body was immense. I had not touched those muscles for several weeks and could only imagine how hard his muscles would be. He stretched his arms letting me see the size of his muscles. He was huge, I had never seen such a big man. He let out a laugh. -I don’t pay ... -I don’t get it -I'm not the one who pays ... I looked at him without understanding. He stood up to go to his room ... his back was a mountain of muscles doing a perfect job. When he came back he brought a box. Inside, it was full of bills. -They are the ones that pay. -What….?! Are you jocking? How much…? -Ha! What? Do you want to know how much it costs to fuck with this mountain of muscles? He said and his chest went up and down and then flexed his arms ... My God, they were huge! I was speechless. -Haha, what a fag you are ... This is the price. It was impossible for someone to pay ... that a girl would pay ... it was a lot ... would he accept credit card?Was it also for guys? —Let me show you — he said and my heart almost stopped. But it was not what I imagined. He sat on the couch and turned on the notebook. I sat next to him. He put the notebook on the table and played the video. He laid back and ran his hand over me, pressed me against his body, my cheek tightened on his chest, and said: -You'll see the show. The girl was on the bed moving back and forth. It was filmed with a cell phone. Fran filmed her body from above and then he filmed himself. All his huge, sweaty muscles glowing in the dim light of the room. It was a compilation in which one girl was fucked after another. Some against the wall, others crushed under his muscles. It was fucking amazing…. but what was amazing was the size of his cock. It was impossibly large… He moved his huge hand over my pants and began to touch me. -Its better without this -he said and took off my pants in a second. My cock was at full mast … well thats a way of saying ... I never had a big cock ... well, okay ... I have a little one ... Fran laugh and began to jack me off with two fingers. Each of his fingers was bigger than my cock. -It's like a little fish -he said in a mocking tone- Does ever get hard? The truth was that I never got too hard ... I was about to say something when I saw what was happening in his pants. It was as if he had put two bananas ... three bananas in his pocket. -Do you want to see a reals man cock? —He said and with his other hand he moved mine to touch his cock. I came up in a second. -Uhhgg! Shit! —He said and wiped the semen on my shirt— Come here ... take care of this ... And he took off his pants. The biggest cock I ever saw in my life appeard in front of my eyes. —Big as the rest of my muscles ... —he joked as he looked at me and looked at his gigantic cock— are you going to stay there? With shaking hand I grabbed his cock. It was so big and so hard that I could not close my hand. —Use both —he said. And I grabbed it with the other one. He leaned back. —Stronger. His cock was bigger than my arm, it was just huge and I could not imagine who could stand ... which girl could resist to be fucked with such a big cock. -Stronger, little man. His entire body was covered which huge, hard and shiny muscles. Even naked it was as if he had an armor on and his cock was a sword ... a cannon. -Stronger ... come on! I was squeezing with all my strenth, but he hardly felt it. He stood up and lifted me with one hand. He carried me to the bathroom, turned on the light and stood in front of the mirror. All his musle body was shining in the light of the bathroom. He sat me in his cock and said: - It's as if it were your cock ... Jack off! I grabbed myself to his cock to keep me from falling. -Imagine that you grew a huge cock like this ... Come on ! Imagine that you can fuck one girl after the other ... they all want to to suck your cock ... they want to touch your muscles -while saying that he flexed both arms- Imagine that you are the most muscular stud in the world, stronger than a bull and harder than a tank. Imagine that you start to earn money out of just because everyone wants to touch your muscles and you just grow and grow and you get stronger every day and you're hard all over and you can fuck for hours and hours and come and come and come. Ahhh ... I'm huge. Look at the muscles I have, little fag. Look at the size of my muscles.I'm a beast ... do you know what beasts do? They fuck ... He lowered me from his cock and left me on the floor in front of him with his cock pointed at my face. He was the biggest muscle giant I had ever seen in my fucking life. -Look at me, little fag ... look at the size of my muscles ... imagine what I would do I would fuck you with this cock ... I would break your ass ... you could not sit in your fucking life again ... do you want to try it? I bet you want to suck my whole cock ... -Yes… -Haha, what a fag you are ... okay then, this is on my own. He held my head with one hand while he approached his cock to my mouth. It was huge, it was too big, it was impossible that I would be able to open that big. -So, little man ... haha, I'm going to break your jaw ... I'm huge ... I breathed through my nose trying not to drown ... - What's up, little fag? Am I too big? This is what happens when you try to suck the cock of a giant like me. ahhhh ... I would break your mouth just because you are a fucking piece of shit ... Look at the size of my muscles ... This is how a man should look like ... Not that little shit you are ... Look at my arms ... Look how strong I am ... Open that mouth or I’ll broke it with my huge cock! I bet you're dying to touch my muscles ... Sorry, little fag… you can’t afford it. I'm too big, too hard, I'm too strong. And then he came and I got choked and everything turned white and then black ... The week after that Fran quit his job. When I came back from the office (as fast as I could) I found the garbage can full of giant condoms and women's clothes. Fran had become a prostitute ... With the money he earned, he began to buy designer clothes, perfumes, computers, cell phones, all expensive things and to top it off he bought a truck as big as himself. He was earning so much money that he gave me some: -Buy yourself something, little fag. But I just wanted to pay him ... I wanted to touch his huge back ... Now that I barely reached his waist, Fran had become a huge, strong and muscular god ... and in my pocket I was pressing the money I had taken from the bank. One day I found a sheet of paper with the new prices on the floor ... Not even a month's salary would be enough to touch him for a minute ... Fran had become a VIP prostitute ... The women who slept with him were millionaires. Women who only existed in magazines and on television. And Fran fucker them all. He had his regular clients who loved him, who touched his chest and went mad with his strength, with the huge cock he had. When we had breakfast together, many times one of them would drop a bunch of money on the table just to touch his muscles while he was having breakfast. -Do you like my body, bitch? —he would say while flexing. One night he arrived with three women. Just by seeing them you could tell they were older, maybe forty years old. With huge tits and full of money, gold everywhere. He took them to his room and started to fuck them ... I realized that because they started screaming like crazy. But after a few minutes they stood silent and then Fran came into my room ... naked. It was as if a mountain of muscles suddenly passed through the door. His entire body was shining, covered with an oil that made him look even bigger .... and his cock ... gigantic ... hard as a club ... a huge anaconda in front of me… And I was lying in my bed ... -I need you to do me a favor ... -he told me from above his incredible muscles ... he was a beast- I need you to film me fucking ... —What? —They are clients of mine and they want to have a video of me fucking them… He said that and left (bending down trying not to tear the wall apart). I followed him. In her room the clothes were lying all over the floor and in his bed were the three women, naked, with their huge tits and asses and faces and bodies all covered in semen. -Awww look how cute your little friend is ... - said one. -How beautiful! Are you going to do us a favor? How cute! -We want you to film him ... and his muscular body while he fucks us ... You're beautiful, Fran ... A stud ... -Film his chest, look at the huge chest he has ... what a macho! -Film his cock, look at that cock. - Me first! —Cried one and Fran grabbed her against the wall, squeezing her with his muscles as she sucked his chest that was crushing her. -Film his back, look at that back full of muscles ... look how strong he is ... -Look at those legs ... My God ... he is a beast ... And Fran fucked them all two times and I filmed everything. When he finished he approached to me and I backed up until I was against the wall. He took my cell phone out and started watching the video. His cock full erect still dripped on my head, his muscular and huge legs prevented me from any movement. His body smelled to sex. And his whole body was shining. —Well done, bitch ... I'm huge, -he said and with one hand he ruffled me pressing me agains his legs and then he layed down on the bed with the three women. The four of them watched the video while they touched him and kissed him and bit him. -Thank you, beautiful! —said one and threw me a kiss. -What a good eye! Look how your body looks, Fran! You are huge! Look at these arms! But one of them said nothing and looked at me. She had big eyes and a look that understood things. She licked her lips and said: -How can we thank you? -while he touched Fran's chest. She ran her hand over those huge pecs and then grabbed Fran’s still hard cock. -Fran, how can we pay your friend? -Pay him? -He looked at me and winked at me- I think he's already happy to see me fuck ... -Aw, really? Is him one of those? - Pretty, do you like the muscles of your friend Fran? Did you see how huge he is? Look at this chest! There is no man with such a big chest! How hard! Aw, Fran, you're huge! -Fran, how much do we owe you? -There's the price list, -he said, pointing to the wall while still watching the video. The woman with the big eyes stood up and went to the wall. she read the price list and then looked at me. -Girls ... -she said and returned to the bed- How about we give our little friend a gift? -A gift? -Asked another and when the first one whispered in her ear, she smiled. -A huge and muscular gift! -Aw, yes, would you like that little man? Do you want to know what it feels like to be fucked by the most muscular man in the world? Look at the size of this cock, look at the shoulders he has. Look at his chest and these arms. He is a huge stud and fucks like a god. -Here, Fran. This is for ours and this is for your friend ... we want a complete service ... so he can enjoy all your huge muscles ... Fran stood up and came up to me crushing me with his legs. -It seems it's your lucky day, little bitch -he said while masturbating the cock full of semen- You'll be able to enjoy my muscle body ... -he said and he lifted me up and sat me on top of his cock, but before he tore off my clothes. I felt his gigantic cock against my ass and everything in me got wet. His chest pressed me against the wall, I tried to push him with my hands but it was like pushing a wall, a mountain full of muscles. Fran was all hard and hot. - What's up, little one? —said one of the girls. Both approached Fran and began to touch his huge legs. - Don’t you want this? Don’t you want to touch your friend's huge muscles? Look how big he is. Look at the chest he has. Look at these huge arms, look at how big his muscles are. Uh, you're so huge, Fran. Touch his chest, give it a try. - What a weakling you are! —said Fran. - How does it feel to be sitting in the biggest cock that you’ll ever see in your life? -one of them asked. - Do you realize that his is going to break your ass? -asked another. -Try to defend yourself from me, -Fran said, pressing me against the wall. -Come on!, push, push harder, hit me!. What happens? Am I too big? Am I too strong? -Break his ass, Fran. -I'll show you, little shit, how a real man fucks. Uh you are so going to like this -Fran said, flexing both arms. -Fran, we want you to put all your strength in breaking that little ass he has. -Ha! —Frank laughed- I'm going to kill him just by opening his ass with my cock. I have it too big for such a small ass -and then looking at me with a grimace said- Come on, little man, touch me, touch all my huge muscles. Ugh, I'm huge. -I hope you're prepared, kid, -one of them said- You're going to be raped by a 400 pound stallion. And that was the last thing I heard, before Fran broke my ass with his huge cock.
  3. dangerdanger

    Pay per Fran [ENGLISH]

    Spanish Version in here. My parents always educated me in the culture of effort, so none of my friends were surprised that at twenty-five years old I bought my apartment. I had worked hard to get enough money, doing extra hours, working freelance on weekends and saving everything I could spending as little as possible. I asked for a loan from a bank and that was it. I moved as soon as they gave me the key and for six months I enjoyed the solitude. After that time I decided that the same thing I had done to get half the department I could do to get the other half and for that I was not going to skimp on anything. If I went back to do freelance, some extra hours and rent the room that was empty, then it would not take me long to collect all the money I needed. So I told my friends that I had a room available for rent. Several friends were interested but none had enough money to pay for the place, it was not that I charged too much, what happened was that none had a job that still allowed them to live alone. The days passed and one morning I got a message from Fran: -Hey, I was told you're renting a room! I need to leave my old house! Who was Fran? We had been partners in my previous job where I was a developer and he was a tester. He was a guy with whom we always joked. I could not say he was cute, maybe if you just see his face you would not say that, but he had something in the way of being that was seductive, in addition to having a body ... what could I say? A huge chest. He was not what I would call muscular, he only had the perfect proportions, he did some sport and liked to take care of himself. He practiced wrestling and that should keep him quite trained. He knew that I liked men, but he never cared. He was pretty clear that he liked women so he always pinched someone's ass to annoy him, even me! In him it was as normal as giving you a slap. However, everything that he trusted with men, with women just vanished. If a girl liked him too much he could barely talk to her. I also remember a lot of girls “he did not like" that were as hot for him as me. More than one got to suck his cock in the bathroom of a party. The idea of living with Fran excited me from the first moment. I imagined him naked in my bathroom and the idea alone was enough for me to cum. The next week he dropped his bag in the empty room and settled in. At first things were pretty normal. We both had breakfast together and then both would go to work. I came back in the afternoon and enjoyed a few hours just to work until nightfall just when he arrived. The best moments were when he walked around in his underwears. He had a huge chest, just as I remembered, marked and wide. Fran was a good head taller than me so if we met in the bathroom I had the perfect image of his muscles. —Careful, little man! -he told me when I stomped into him. That was hot! Fran needed to save money but unlike me he did not have the will to work and not spend. He went out with friends and spent too much money outing. I was not surprised that he could not save money. I knew from a friend he used to pay for sex and apparently he needed to have too much sex per week. Another thing he used to do with his beautiful body was wrestling, so he had those ridiculous spandex suits that looked great on him. They highlighted his broad shoulders, his chest and his cock. I imagined him struggling with that clothes with some other man dressed the same and the idea was enough for the whole night. Things started to change one afternoon that he came angry from training. The coach had told him he needed to gain weight to compete in the tournament. —How much do you have to gain? —asked. —I have to be 176.37 pounds —he answered me. It did not seem so much to me and I told him so. -More than 20 pounds of muscle! —He said as if it were something obvious— You say that because you never gained a pound in your life! I bet you cannot lift 10 pounds in the gym! To gain so much muscle, I would have to eat a lot of meat. Do you know how expensive is it?, I would also need to take supplements that are very expensive and also go to a nutritionist. I can not pay for all that! Beyond that the idea of him becoming more muscular excited me and it did not take me even ten seconds to imagine a version of Fran stronger and more muscular ... with a huge chest and bulging arms ... it was also true that I wanted to help him, at least for him to learn to be rigorous to get what he wanted. Then I offered him that if for a month he could focus all his efforts on this challenge and use his money only for his goals then I would help him. How? For a month I would not charge him a rent. —Really? —he asked. —But only if I see that you take it seriously. —Of course!! You'll see! I'm going to become a beast! I do not know if it was my words or the desire I had to enter the tournament but something in his attitude changed overnight. He stopped going out with his friends and he went every day to the gym. Our kitchen got filled with supplements and the refrigerator was full of meat, chicken, vegetables and other things I did not even know the name of. Every day after work he went to train and came to eat. Now he cooked for the both of us and he ate impressive amounts of meat and carbohydrates. He took his supplements rigorously and went to sleep to get enough rest. In a few days I noticed the difference. After every of his showers I could see the changes. Muscles over muscles appearing on his back that had suddenly grown a few inches. His shoulders became rounder and his chest marked as if he suddenly wanted to get out of his body. His arms became bigger and his legs began to turn into hams. What also began to happen is that he took longer showers, after which he always said with a smile and winking at me: —I had to care of this beast —he would say while he scratched his cock under the towel. And just as he masturbated every day, I did the same thing later ... imagining his body, his hard and strong muscles and especially his huge chest as he grew up. The month passed soon and one morning he told me: —I won 10 pounds. 10 pounds? It looked like he had won 20! All his muscles had grown larger. —What happens is that I lost some fat and gained more muscle mass. And to emphasize his point he flexed his arm. It was huge. —Congratulations! I knew you could do it! But instead of smiling he became serious and said: —Double or nothing? —What? —Double or nothing! We make another month like this and if I do not get to gain another 10 pounds I'll give you all the money back ... —… and if you do gain the 10 pounds? He took some time to think about it —I do not pay the rent for two months ... Beyond the fact that the difference between receiving and not receiving that money was important, the idea of seeing him grow even more was making me horny. —Deal! —I said and I shook his hand. Fran squeezed hard. The next month was crazy. For some reason that I do not know Fran stopped wearing t-shirts from one day to the next. Every day I saw his huge muscles walking around my house. His legs all marked, his abs and his huge chest (every day bigger). Every day he cooked larger quantities of food that he ate in front of me. When he finished, he would hit his belly and smile. It was like watching him inflate in front of me. His showers were endless, it was too obvious that he was masturbating like crazy. And me after him, thinking about him and how huge he was now. The night before the end of the month he brought a scale. —Tomorrow is the big day —he said and went to sleep. Next morning when I got up he had already made breakfast. He was getting up even earlier than me.He was wearing only calvin klein drawers that marked his cock… —Do you read? —he said to me standing on the scale. —200 pounds —Ha! —he said and climbed off the scales, flexing both arms. "I'm a beast!" Then he started eating. I still did not understand what had happened, I was too sleepy. It took me a few seconds to do the accounts, I had gained more than 10 pounds, right? The next two months he had won to live for free were more of the same. I got to believe that he had gone crazy, he was a totally different person. He was obsessed with the amount of food, with the hours of sleep, with the amounts of weights for each exercise. But all that seemed to be working as he grew more and more every day and not only his muscles were bigger, Fran was getting taller. One night when he came out of the shower I saw his hair brushing against the door frame. But not only that, his shoulders too. He had to buy new clothes because the previous one did not fit his huge muscled body. His arms were too thick and his chest seemed way bigger. When the two months that he had won for free ended, something suddenly changed. The following week he wore T-shirts every day. I had become used to to seeing his impressive body full of muscles walking around the house ... that huge chest that I imagined all the time growing more and more ... On the fifth day I said: -Hey, Fran, is there something wrong? -Why? —He asked, lifting his face from the plate of food. -Oh! I don’t know ... I mean ... you're acting kind of weird ... -Me? Why? -I don’t know ... I mean ... -I could never say what I was thinking ... I did not even know what I was thinking ... Then Fran smiled. -Are you asking me why I do not walk more without a shirt? -What?! No, of course not! -So? -Nothing ... fuck off ... That night he sat in front of me with his huge plate of food and told me seriously. -Ok, I need money ... I looked at him without understanding. -My salary is to low… and I need money. -And what are you going to do? He looked at me seriously: -I want to make a ... deal ... -A deal? -Yes… - What kind of deal? -Well ... did you see ... you saw how I ...? I looked at him waiting for his answer. -Did you ever pay to see someone? Or something? -What? What are you talking about? -Come one! You know what I'm talking about! A stripclub! -Fran, I don’t follow you ... but no, I never went to one of those places. -Well, it's a place where you pay to see girls ... or guys ... dance naked ... you know, naked ... I looked at him without being able to believe what he was saying. Under the table the cock became hard in a second. —Are you telling me to pay you to see you naked? -Something like that ... -said smiling. -WHAT?! - inside my chest my heart was jumping for joy but at the same time I did not understand what was happening. -Don't get any wrong ideas! Think of it as a ... win win… I need money ... and you ... and you like men ... I mean ... given that I like gitls with big tits I figured that maybe you liked guys ... with big muscles and strong ... like me ... -Are you crazy? -No!! Think it like this ... it's like you would sponsor me ... you would give me a hand ... and in return I let you see my body ... my muscles ... Come one! You're not going to tell me that you want to see the muscles I have! - ... -Imaginate this ... I come back home after training ... and I'm all hard ... I have all my muscles huge ... so hard that I can barely move my arms .... Don’t you want to see how strong I am getting? "You're crazy ..." I said and got up and went to sleep. That night I could barely sleep and I jacked off 5 times before sunrise. I woke up destroyed. Fran was eating breakfast. I sat in front of him trying to wake myself up. -You didn’t sleep anything, right? -No… - How many times did you jacked off? -Five… -Five?! Ha! Does my muscle body turn you on that much? I said yes with my head. -Ha! Crazy! I asked him: -How long? Fran looked at me and smiled. -Whatever you say. -Okey ... let's try for a month and see. He got up and came to me. He lifted me up as if I weighed nothing and hugged me, pressing me agains his huge muscled chest. Then he released me and took off his shirt with the most impressive movement I ever saw in my life. With both arms he grabbed the bottom of his shirt and as he was raising a flag he took off his shirt. His perfect abs appeared one after the other and then his huge chest ... strong and big… -You’ll see! -He said while flexing both arms- You are going to enjoy every day of seeing my muscles! I'm going to be huge! I'm going to become the most muscular man you saw in your fucking life and I'm going to walk in front of you for you to see it. He ruffled me with one hand and went to change to go to work. That month was crazy. Fran grew like a beast. Every day I saw him get bigger and bigger and he no longer just walked around without a shirt, but every so often he flexed both arms and said: -How about my muscles, little man? Do you like what you see? I'm getting huge! I was speechless, seeing the impossible size of his chest. That's how it had to be a man's chest! At the end of the month, he not only weighed almost 220 pounds, but he also was two heads taller than me. When we met in the bathroom he would say things like: - How’s the view from down there, little man? Am I too big? How many times are you going to jack off today after seeing my muscles? -And flexed his huge and strong chest- I bet I have the biggest chest you ever saw in your fucking life. In the gym there is no one who has tits like me —he said and while he massaged his chest with one hand— You don’t know the strength I have in my chest, I bet you I can lift more than ten times your weight. When I finish training, my chest is so hard that I can hardly put on my shirt. Do you remember the fighting suit I had? Can you imagine how would I look like with these muscles now? Would you like me to wear it? Without thinking I said that if ... -Ha! What a fag you are... That night I jacked off without stopping until my cock ached. When the next month arrived I told him: -How do we continue? I just wanted to see him without a shirt ... every day bigger and more muscular ... I imagined him having to duck to go through the door. -Lets do this ... What do you think if we make an arrangement by weight? - By weight? -Yeah! Instead of me not paying you rent ... you pay me for every pound ... -Per pound? -Look at this, I already did the numbers ... you are now "giving me" this money that is equal to the total rent ... right? If we divide this number by my weight ... this is the result ... do you follow me? So I thought maybe we can lower the price a little bit per pound ... that way I would have to gain approximately ... mmm ... 40 pounds more to continue without paying ... do you understand? I grabbed the sheet where he had done all the math and I looked at him while thinking: 40 pounds more of muscles? Fran was already huge… he could appear on the cover of any sports magazine. Could he gain more muscles? -You encourage me to grow and you ... you can see it ... what do you think? -He said and winked at me- Can you imagine how my body will look like with 40 pounds more? What happened that month changed everything. I had imagined that Fran would continue to grow as he had been doing until then ... maybe a little slower, but everything would be more or less the same. I was very wrong. That's when I saw what the anabolics could do. At the end of the first week he suddenly inflated all of his muscles and kept them tense all the time. It was as if his muscles acquired another quality, another strength. At first I did not imagine what was happening, but some things started to get my attention. He was more aggressive ... -Look fag, look at the size of my arm —he said and flexed his arms before looking at me over his chest as if looking at a piece of shit- This is how a man should look like ... not like a little shit like you Sometimes he would got too close and "unintentionally" pushed me: -Uh, sorry little man, I didn’t see you down there. Sometimes I forget how huge I am. Or sometimes he just told me: -Are you enjoing what you see? How’s it feel when you see me without a shirt? Do you get horny by looking at my chest? You don’t have an idea how strong I am. In the gym I'm working like a bull. After each of those phrases I could only lock myself in my room to jack off. On the last day of the month, at breakfast, he said: -Come on, little man. You are going to weigh me. He stood on the scale but did not even look over his chest to look. -What does it say? I crouched to see. -275 pounds ... -Haha ... I told you ... I could not believe it. Fran was huge, a mountain of muscles. —You owe me this —he said, showing me a piece of paper with some numbers. -What?! -It was what we had arranged ... the arrangement was per pound and do you see how it says here that if it weighed 260 you paid me exactly the same as the rent? Well, now I weigh 10 pounds more than that. And you owe me this money. It's not much… I could not believe it and I stared at him with my mouth open. -What happens? you don’t want to pay me? His face changed suddenly. He took a step forward and I stepped back. I was against the wall. - You realize that it is not a very good idea not to pay a 275 pound muscle man, right? Look at the arms I have ... Do you know what I can do with all these muscles? That was enough for me to run out and get my wallet. I brought the money and put it on the table. He looked at it still angry and after a second he changed his expression. With a smile he said: -I was fucking with you, little man. Keep it, these 10 pounds of muscle go on my own. Enjoy them, —he said and made his chest go up and down.— We continue then with the same arrangement ... that do you say? But this time we clarify that no matter how much weight I win, you do not have to give me money. Ok? I was still shaking. I said yes. -But if you want we can add these prices as well… And he gave me a sheet with prices. He looked at me with a smile. I looked at it without understanding anything. -Let me explain ... this number here is the price for touching ... and this is the muscle group. For example, if you want to touch my chest for a minute, it will cost you this much ... do you get it? My head had suddenly stopped. -What happens? Do I have to explain it again? It's easy, little man! The idea is that you pay me to touch me. Or you tell me that you don’t want to touch these muscles? Look at my chest ... well, thats the price. He stood up and went to change to go to work. That day I called the office saying I was sick. I jacked off until I thought I was dying. Then I slept and when it was almost time for Fran to return home I went for a walk. My head did not stop spinning, something like this had never happened to me. I was just lost ... It was crazy ... I mean, it was a lot of money. The truth ... what was I thinking? I was not going to pay to touch him! It was ridiculous! When I came back home he was finishing eating. I put the money on the table and took a deep breath. Fran smiled, wiped his mouth with his hand, moved the chair back, spread his legs and looking at his chest with a wicked smile he said: -Its all yours. Even sitting down he was a good head taller than me. I was a little kid in front of a muscle giant. I approached shaking and rested both hands on his huge chest. It was much harder and softer than I had imagined. It was impressive, almost as big as my two pillows. It was heavy and every time I lifted it it fell again. Suddenly he flexed hard and it was as it became a rock. I started to massage it ... -Do you like it, little fag? Do you like to touch my muscles? This is a man's chest should look like! I ran out and locked myself in the bathroom a second before I came. I had not even touched him for a minute. So you could imagine how everything went. I never thought something like this could happen to me. Every day that I came back home and I told myself that I was not going to pay more ... that I would wait until next week ... well, for three days ... I would hold on until tomorrow ... Every day I paid to touch him. And the same thing happened every day. - Do you like my arms? -He said and flexed them while I touched him- Press hard, come one. Squeeze like a man! Ha, imagine the strength that I have that you can not even squeeze a centimeter ... Squeeze harder, fag! Look at the little hands you have over my big muscles! I touched every part of his huge body and when I touched him several times he brought a new sheet with "promos"."Full body" or "after training" or "in pose". I tried them all ... and at the end of the month I realized that I had spent all my salary. I could not believe it, but at the same time I could not stop ... The next day it was Fran who said: - Now I can’t, lets do it tomorrow. He put a shirt over his huge muscle chest and left. That night I could not sleep and I had to jack off until everything hurt. At dawn I heard him came back, but he was not alone. -Shhhh, keep it quiet… my friend is sleeping ... -he said in a low voice. Five minutes later the girl began to scream while he fucked her in his room. I tried to jack off but I only managed to get tears out of my eyes. Fran started bringing girls almost every night. Some of them I had to meet them because he invited them to dinner and others just heard them scream ... one ... two .... three ... four ... five times ... Fran was fucking like a machine. Surely he was taking advantage of all the money I had given him for touch him to pay for those women ... I was sure that they were whores… One morning after we had breakfast Fran, me and one of those girls. The moment she left I asked: -How much did you pay? Fran looked at me smiling. His body was immense. I had not touched those muscles for several weeks and could only imagine how hard his muscles would be. He stretched his arms letting me see the size of his muscles. He was huge, I had never seen such a big man. He let out a laugh. -I don’t pay ... -I don’t get it -I'm not the one who pays ... I looked at him without understanding. He stood up to go to his room ... his back was a mountain of muscles doing a perfect job. When he came back he brought a box. Inside, it was full of bills. -They are the ones that pay. -What….?! Are you jocking? How much…? -Ha! What? Do you want to know how much it costs to fuck with this mountain of muscles? He said and his chest went up and down and then flexed his arms ... My God, they were huge! I was speechless. -Haha, what a fag you are ... This is the price. It was impossible for someone to pay ... that a girl would pay ... it was a lot ... would he accept credit card?Was it also for guys? —Let me show you — he said and my heart almost stopped. But it was not what I imagined. He sat on the couch and turned on the notebook. I sat next to him. He put the notebook on the table and played the video. He laid back and ran his hand over me, pressed me against his body, my cheek tightened on his chest, and said: -You'll see the show. The girl was on the bed moving back and forth. It was filmed with a cell phone. Fran filmed her body from above and then he filmed himself. All his huge, sweaty muscles glowing in the dim light of the room. It was a compilation in which one girl was fucked after another. Some against the wall, others crushed under his muscles. It was fucking amazing…. but what was amazing was the size of his cock. It was impossibly large… He moved his huge hand over my pants and began to touch me. -Its better without this -he said and took off my pants in a second. My cock was at full mast … well thats a way of saying ... I never had a big cock ... well, okay ... I have a little one ... Fran laugh and began to jack me off with two fingers. Each of his fingers was bigger than my cock. -It's like a little fish -he said in a mocking tone- Does ever get hard? The truth was that I never got too hard ... I was about to say something when I saw what was happening in his pants. It was as if he had put two bananas ... three bananas in his pocket. -Do you want to see a reals man cock? —He said and with his other hand he moved mine to touch his cock. I came up in a second. -Uhhgg! Shit! —He said and wiped the semen on my shirt— Come here ... take care of this ... And he took off his pants. The biggest cock I ever saw in my life appeard in front of my eyes. —Big as the rest of my muscles ... —he joked as he looked at me and looked at his gigantic cock— are you going to stay there? With shaking hand I grabbed his cock. It was so big and so hard that I could not close my hand. —Use both —he said. And I grabbed it with the other one. He leaned back. —Stronger. His cock was bigger than my arm, it was just huge and I could not imagine who could stand ... which girl could resist to be fucked with such a big cock. -Stronger, little man. His entire body was covered which huge, hard and shiny muscles. Even naked it was as if he had an armor on and his cock was a sword ... a cannon. -Stronger ... come on! I was squeezing with all my strenth, but he hardly felt it. He stood up and lifted me with one hand. He carried me to the bathroom, turned on the light and stood in front of the mirror. All his musle body was shining in the light of the bathroom. He sat me in his cock and said: - It's as if it were your cock ... Jack off! I grabbed myself to his cock to keep me from falling. -Imagine that you grew a huge cock like this ... Come on ! Imagine that you can fuck one girl after the other ... they all want to to suck your cock ... they want to touch your muscles -while saying that he flexed both arms- Imagine that you are the most muscular stud in the world, stronger than a bull and harder than a tank. Imagine that you start to earn money out of just because everyone wants to touch your muscles and you just grow and grow and you get stronger every day and you're hard all over and you can fuck for hours and hours and come and come and come. Ahhh ... I'm huge. Look at the muscles I have, little fag. Look at the size of my muscles.I'm a beast ... do you know what beasts do? They fuck ... He lowered me from his cock and left me on the floor in front of him with his cock pointed at my face. He was the biggest muscle giant I had ever seen in my fucking life. -Look at me, little fag ... look at the size of my muscles ... imagine what I would do I would fuck you with this cock ... I would break your ass ... you could not sit in your fucking life again ... do you want to try it? I bet you want to suck my whole cock ... -Yes… -Haha, what a fag you are ... okay then, this is on my own. He held my head with one hand while he approached his cock to my mouth. It was huge, it was too big, it was impossible that I would be able to open that big. -So, little man ... haha, I'm going to break your jaw ... I'm huge ... I breathed through my nose trying not to drown ... - What's up, little fag? Am I too big? This is what happens when you try to suck the cock of a giant like me. ahhhh ... I would break your mouth just because you are a fucking piece of shit ... Look at the size of my muscles ... This is how a man should look like ... Not that little shit you are ... Look at my arms ... Look how strong I am ... Open that mouth or I’ll broke it with my huge cock! I bet you're dying to touch my muscles ... Sorry, little fag… you can’t afford it. I'm too big, too hard, I'm too strong. And then he came and I got choked and everything turned white and then black ... The week after that Fran quit his job. When I came back from the office (as fast as I could) I found the garbage can full of giant condoms and women's clothes. Fran had become a prostitute ... With the money he earned, he began to buy designer clothes, perfumes, computers, cell phones, all expensive things and to top it off he bought a truck as big as himself. He was earning so much money that he gave me some: -Buy yourself something, little fag. But I just wanted to pay him ... I wanted to touch his huge back ... Now that I barely reached his waist, Fran had become a huge, strong and muscular god ... and in my pocket I was pressing the money I had taken from the bank. One day I found a sheet of paper with the new prices on the floor ... Not even a month's salary would be enough to touch him for a minute ... Fran had become a VIP prostitute ... The women who slept with him were millionaires. Women who only existed in magazines and on television. And Fran fucker them all. He had his regular clients who loved him, who touched his chest and went mad with his strength, with the huge cock he had. When we had breakfast together, many times one of them would drop a bunch of money on the table just to touch his muscles while he was having breakfast. -Do you like my body, bitch? —he would say while flexing. One night he arrived with three women. Just by seeing them you could tell they were older, maybe forty years old. With huge tits and full of money, gold everywhere. He took them to his room and started to fuck them ... I realized that because they started screaming like crazy. But after a few minutes they stood silent and then Fran came into my room ... naked. It was as if a mountain of muscles suddenly passed through the door. His entire body was shining, covered with an oil that made him look even bigger .... and his cock ... gigantic ... hard as a club ... a huge anaconda in front of me… And I was lying in my bed ... -I need you to do me a favor ... -he told me from above his incredible muscles ... he was a beast- I need you to film me fucking ... —What? —They are clients of mine and they want to have a video of me fucking them… He said that and left (bending down trying not to tear the wall apart). I followed him. In her room the clothes were lying all over the floor and in his bed were the three women, naked, with their huge tits and asses and faces and bodies all covered in semen. -Awww look how cute your little friend is ... - said one. -How beautiful! Are you going to do us a favor? How cute! -We want you to film him ... and his muscular body while he fucks us ... You're beautiful, Fran ... A stud ... -Film his chest, look at the huge chest he has ... what a macho! -Film his cock, look at that cock. - Me first! —Cried one and Fran grabbed her against the wall, squeezing her with his muscles as she sucked his chest that was crushing her. -Film his back, look at that back full of muscles ... look how strong he is ... -Look at those legs ... My God ... he is a beast ... And Fran fucked them all two times and I filmed everything. When he finished he approached to me and I backed up until I was against the wall. He took my cell phone out and started watching the video. His cock full erect still dripped on my head, his muscular and huge legs prevented me from any movement. His body smelled to sex. And his whole body was shining. —Well done, bitch ... I'm huge, -he said and with one hand he ruffled me pressing me agains his legs and then he layed down on the bed with the three women. The four of them watched the video while they touched him and kissed him and bit him. -Thank you, beautiful! —said one and threw me a kiss. -What a good eye! Look how your body looks, Fran! You are huge! Look at these arms! But one of them said nothing and looked at me. She had big eyes and a look that understood things. She licked her lips and said: -How can we thank you? -while he touched Fran's chest. She ran her hand over those huge pecs and then grabbed Fran’s still hard cock. -Fran, how can we pay your friend? -Pay him? -He looked at me and winked at me- I think he's already happy to see me fuck ... -Aw, really? Is him one of those? - Pretty, do you like the muscles of your friend Fran? Did you see how huge he is? Look at this chest! There is no man with such a big chest! How hard! Aw, Fran, you're huge! -Fran, how much do we owe you? -There's the price list, -he said, pointing to the wall while still watching the video. The woman with the big eyes stood up and went to the wall. she read the price list and then looked at me. -Girls ... -she said and returned to the bed- How about we give our little friend a gift? -A gift? -Asked another and when the first one whispered in her ear, she smiled. -A huge and muscular gift! -Aw, yes, would you like that little man? Do you want to know what it feels like to be fucked by the most muscular man in the world? Look at the size of this cock, look at the shoulders he has. Look at his chest and these arms. He is a huge stud and fucks like a god. -Here, Fran. This is for ours and this is for your friend ... we want a complete service ... so he can enjoy all your huge muscles ... Fran stood up and came up to me crushing me with his legs. -It seems it's your lucky day, little bitch -he said while masturbating the cock full of semen- You'll be able to enjoy my muscle body ... -he said and he lifted me up and sat me on top of his cock, but before he tore off my clothes. I felt his gigantic cock against my ass and everything in me got wet. His chest pressed me against the wall, I tried to push him with my hands but it was like pushing a wall, a mountain full of muscles. Fran was all hard and hot. - What's up, little one? —said one of the girls. Both approached Fran and began to touch his huge legs. - Don’t you want this? Don’t you want to touch your friend's huge muscles? Look how big he is. Look at the chest he has. Look at these huge arms, look at how big his muscles are. Uh, you're so huge, Fran. Touch his chest, give it a try. - What a weakling you are! —said Fran. - How does it feel to be sitting in the biggest cock that you’ll ever see in your life? -one of them asked. - Do you realize that his is going to break your ass? -asked another. -Try to defend yourself from me, -Fran said, pressing me against the wall. -Come on!, push, push harder, hit me!. What happens? Am I too big? Am I too strong? -Break his ass, Fran. -I'll show you, little shit, how a real man fucks. Uh you are so going to like this -Fran said, flexing both arms. -Fran, we want you to put all your strength in breaking that little ass he has. -Ha! —Frank laughed- I'm going to kill him just by opening his ass with my cock. I have it too big for such a small ass -and then looking at me with a grimace said- Come on, little man, touch me, touch all my huge muscles. Ugh, I'm huge. -I hope you're prepared, kid, -one of them said- You're going to be raped by a 400 pound stallion. And that was the last thing I heard, before Fran broke my ass with his huge cock.
  4. dangerdanger

    Pay per Fran [SPANISH]

    English version in here. Mis padres siempre me educaron en la cultura del esfuerzo, por lo que a ninguno de mis amigos les sorprendió que a los veinticinco años me comprara mi departamento. Había trabajado mucho para conseguir la plata suficiente, haciendo horas extras, trabajando freelance los fines de semana y ahorrando todo lo que podía y gastando lo menos posible. Pedí un préstamo a un banco y eso fue todo. Me mudé apenas me dieron la llave y durante seis meses disfruté de la soledad y me relajé. Pasado ese tiempo decidí que lo mismo que había hecho para conseguir la mitad del departamento lo podía hacer para conseguir la otra mitad y para eso no iba a escatimar en nada. Si volvía a tomar trabajos freelance, un poco de horas extras y alquilaba una de las habitaciones que me quedaba libre, entonces no tardaría en juntar todo el dinero que necesitaba. Así fue como le comenté a mis amigos que tenía una habitación disponible para alquilar. A varios amigos les interesó pero ninguno tenía suficiente dinero para pagar el lugar, no era que yo cobrase demasiado, lo que pasaba era que ninguno tenía un trabajo que todavía les permitiera vivir solos. Los días pasaron y una mañana me llegó un mensaje de Fran: -¡Hey, me enteré que estas alquilando un cuarto y yo necesito irme de la casa de mis viejos! ¿Quien era Fran? Habíamos sido compañeros en mi trabajo anterior donde yo era desarrollador y él tester. Era un pibe jodón con quien siempre nos hacíamos bromas. No podría decir que fuese lindo, quizás si agarrabas tan solo su cara no dirías eso, pero había algo en la manera de ser que resultaba seductor, sumado a que tenía un cuerpo… ¿que digo? Un pecho enorme. No era lo que se dice musculoso, tan solo tenía las proporciones perfectas, hacía mucho deporte y le gustaba cuidarse. Practicaba lucha libre y eso debía mantenerlo bastante entrenado. Él siempre supo que a mi me gustaban los hombres, pero nunca le importó. Tenía bastante claro que le gustaban las mujeres por lo que siempre le pellizcaba el culo a alguno para molestarlo, ¡incluso a mí!. En él era tan normal como darte una palmada. Sin embargo todo lo confiado que era con los hombres, con las mujeres se desvanecía. Simplemente cuando una chica le gustaba demasiado apenas podía hablarle. Recuerdo también que muchas de las chicas “que no le gustaban” estaban tan calientes por él como yo y más de una le chupó la pija en el baño de alguna fiesta. La idea de vivir con Fran me excitó desde el primer momento. Me lo imaginaba desnudo en el baño de mi casa y la sola idea ya me servía para acabar. A la semana siguiente dejó caer su bolso en el cuarto vacío y se instaló en casa. Al principio las cosas fueron bastante normales. Ambos desayunábamos juntos y después cada uno se iba al trabajo. Yo volvía por la tarde y disfrutaba de unas horas solo para trabajar hasta que caía la noche y él llegaba. Los mejores momentos era cuando andaba por la casa solo en calzoncillos. Tenía un pecho enorme, tal cual yo recordaba, marcado y ancho. Fran me sacaba una cabeza por lo que si nos cruzábamos en el baño yo tenía la imagen perfecta de sus músculos. —¡Cuidado, enanin! —me decía cuando nos cruzábamos de esa forma y lo decía para molestarme pero a mi me excitaba. Fran necesitaba ahorrar plata pero a diferencia mía no tenía voluntad para trabajar y no gastar. Salía con amigos y se gastaba demasiada plata en cada salida. No me sorprendía que no lograse ahorrar dinero. Según me enteré por un amigo en común solía pagar para tener sexo y al parecer necesitaba tener demasiado sexo por semana. Otra cosa que hacía con ese hermoso cuerpo que tenía era lucha libre por lo que tenía esos trajes ridiculos de spandex que le quedaban de maravilla. Resaltaban sus anchos hombros, su pecho y su pija. Me lo imaginaba luchando con esa ropa con algún otro hombre vestido igual y la idea me alcanzaba para toda la noche. Las cosas comenzaron a cambiar una tarde que vino enojado de entrenar. El entrenador le había dicho que necesitaba ganar peso para competir en el torneo. —¿Cuanto tenés que ganar? —le pregunté. —Tengo que pesar 80 kilos —me respondió. No me parecía tanto y se lo dije. —¡Diez kilos de músculo! —me dijo como si fuera algo obvio— ¡Vos porque nunca ganaste ni un kilo en tu vida! ¡Apuesto que no levantás ni cinco kilos en el gimnasio! Para ganar tanto músculo tendría que comer muchisima carne, ¡con lo caro que sale!, tomar suplementos que son carísimos y además ir a un nutricionista. ¡No puedo pagar todo eso!. Más allá de que la idea de que se volviera más musculoso me excitaba y no tardé ni diez segundos en imaginarme una versión de Fran más fuerte y musculosa… con el pecho enorme y los brazos abultados… también era verdad que lo quería ayudar, al menos a que aprendiera a ser riguroso para conseguir lo que quería. Entonces le ofrecí que si durante un mes el podía enfocar todos sus esfuerzos en este desafío y usar la plata solo para sus objetivos entonces yo lo ayudaría. ¿Como? Durante un mes no le cobraría alquiler. —¿En serio? —me preguntó. —Pero solo si veo que te lo tomas en serio. —¡Obvio! ¡Ya vas a ver! ¡Me voy a volver una bestia! No sé si fueron mis palabras o las ganas que tenía de entrar al torneo pero algo en su actitud cambió de la noche a la mañana. Dejó de salir con amigos y se anotó todos los días en el gimnasio. Nuestra cocina se llenó de suplementos y la heladera de carne, pollo, verduras y otras cosas de las que ni siquiera sabía el nombre. Todos los días después del trabajo se iba a entrenar y llegaba para comer. Ahora él cocinaba para ambos y comía unas cantidades impresionantes de carne y carbohidratos. Tomaba sus suplementos de forma rigurosa y se iba a dormir para descansar lo suficiente. En pocos días noté la diferencia. Cuando salía de bañarse podía ver los cambios. Músculos sobre músculos se le marcaban en la espalda que de pronto había crecido unos cuantos centímetros. Sus hombros se volvieron más redondos y su pecho se marcó como si de pronto quisiera salirse de su cuerpo. Sus brazos se volvieron más grandes y sus piernas comenzaron a convertirse en jamones. Lo que también comenzó a suceder es que se tomaba duchas mas largas, después de las cuales siempre decía con una sonrisa y guiñándome un ojo: —Hay que atender a la bestia —y se rascaba la pija debajo de la toalla. Y así como él se masturbaba todos los días yo hacía lo mismo después… imaginando su cuerpo, sus músculos duros y fuertes y sobre todo su enorme pecho mientras crecía. El mes pasó pronto y una mañana me dijo: —Gané 5 kilos. ¿5 kilos? ¡Parecía como si hubiera ganado 20! Todos sus músculos se habían vuelto más grandes. —Lo que pasa es que perdí algo de grasa y gané más masa muscular. Y para remarcar su punto flexionó su brazo. Era enorme. —¡Felicitaciones! ¡Yo sabía que podrías hacerlo! Pero en lugar de sonreír se puso serio y me dijo: —¿Doble o nada? —¿Eh? —Doble o nada. Hacemos otro mes igual a este y si no llego a ganar otros cinco kilos te devuelvo toda la plata… —¿… y si lo lográs? Se quedó pensando durante unos segundos. —No te pago el alquiler por dos meses más… Más allá de que la diferencia de recibir o no el alquiler era importante, la idea de verlo crecer más aún me estaba calentando. —¡Trato hecho!—dije y le estreché la mano que me ofrecía. Fran apretó con fuerza. El mes siguiente fue una locura. Por alguna razón que desconozco Fran dejó de usar remeras de un día para otro. Todos los días veía sus enormes músculos pasearse por toda mi casa. Sus piernas todas marcadas, sus abdominales y su enorme pecho (cada día más grande). Cada día cocinaba cantidades más grandes de comida que comía frente a mi solo en calzones. Cuando terminaba se golpeaba la panza y sonreía. Era como verlo inflarse delante mío. Sus duchas eran interminables, era demasiado obvio que se estaba masturbando como loco. Y yo después de él, pensando en él y en lo enorme que se estaba volviendo. La noche anterior a que terminara el mes trajo una balanza. —Mañana es el gran día —dijo y se fue a dormir. A la mañana siguiente cuando me levanté ya había hecho el desayuno. Se estaba levantando incluso más temprano que yo. Solo llevaba puesto unos calzones calvin klein que le marcaban la pija… —¿Lees? —me dijo parado sobre la balanza. —92 kilos —¡Ja! —dijo y se bajó de la balanza flexionando ambos brazos— ¡Soy una bestia! Dicho eso se puso a comer. Yo todavía no entendía que había pasado, estaba demasiado dormido. Tardé unos segundos en hacer las cuentas, había ganado más de 5 kilo, ¿no? Los dos meses siguientes que había ganado para vivir gratis fueron más de lo mismo. E incluso llegué a creer que se había vuelto loco, era una persona totalmente diferente. Estaba obsesionado con las cantidad de la comida, con las horas de sueño, con las cantidades de pesos de cada ejercicio. Pero todo eso parecía estar dando resultado ya que crecía cada día más y no solo sus músculos eran mas grandes, estaba creciendo en altura. Una noche que salió de la ducha vi como su pelo rozaba el marco de la puerta. Pero no solo eso, sus hombros también. Se tuvo que comprar ropa nueva porque la anterior ya no le entraba. Sus brazos eran demasiado gruesos y su pecho parecía ser el doble que antes. Cuando los dos meses que había ganado gratis se terminaron algo cambió de repente. La semana siguiente usó remera todos los días. Yo me había acostumbrado a ver su impresionante cuerpo lleno de músculos pasearse por casa… ese enorme pecho al que imaginaba todo el tiempo creciendo cada vez más… Al quinto día le dije: —¿Che, Fran, pasa algo? —¿Por? —me preguntó él levantando la cara del plato de comida. —No sé… digo… estás como raro… —¿Yo? ¿Por? —No sé… digo… —jamás podría decir lo que pensaba… ni siquiera sabía lo que estaba pensando… Ahi Fran sonrió. —¿Me estás preguntando porque no ando más sin remera? —¡¿Que?! ¡No, obvio que no! —¿Entonces? —No nada… dejá… Esa noche se sentó frente a mi con su enorme plato de comida y me dijo serio. —Okey, necesito plata… Lo miré sin entender. —Con lo que gano no me alcanza y necesito plata. —¿Y que vas a hacer? Me miró serio, corrió el plato de comida y me dijo: —Quiero hacer un… trato… —¿Un trato? —Si… —¿Que clase de trato? —Bueno… ¿viste… viste como yo…? Lo miré esperando su respuesta. —¿Alguna vez pagaste por ver a alguien? —¿Eh? ¿De qué estás hablando? —¡Dale, chabon! ¡Ya sabés de lo que te estoy hablando! ¡Un stripclub! —Fran, no te sigo… pero no, nunca fui a uno de esos lugares. —Bueno, es un lugar donde uno paga por ver a minas… o tipos… bailar desnudas… desnudos… Lo miré sin poder creer lo que me estaba diciendo. Debajo de la mesa la pija se me puso dura en un segundo. —¿Me estás diciendo que te pague por verte desnudo? —Algo asi… —dijo sonriendo. —¡¿QUE?! —por dentro mi corazón estaba saltando de alegría pero al mismo tiempo no entendía que estaba pasando. —¡No pienses cualquier cosa! ¡Pensalo como un… win win…! Yo necesito plata… y vos… y a vos te gustan los tipos… digo… dado que a mi me gustan las minas con tetas bien grandes me imaginé que a vos quizás te gustaban los tipos… musculosos y fuertes… como yo… —¿Estás loco? —¡NO! Pensalo así…es como que me auspiciarías… me darías una mano… y yo a cambio te dejo ver mi cuerpo… mis músculos… ¡daaaale! ¡No me vas a decir que te dan ganas de ver el lomo que tengo! —… —Imaginate esto… vuelvo de entrenar a casa… y estoy todo duro… tengo todos los músculos enormes… tan duros que apenas puedo bajar los brazos…. ¿no te ganas ganas de ver lo fuerte que me estoy poniendo? —Estás loco… —dije y me levanté y me fui a dormir. Esa noche apenas pude dormir y me masturbé 5 veces antes de que sonara el despertador. Me levanté destruido. Fran comía el desayuno. Me senté frente a él intentando despertarme. —No dormiste nada, ¿no? —No… —¿Cuantas veces te pajeaste? —Cinco… —¡¿Cinco?! ¡Ja! ¡Zarpado! ¿Tanto te excita mi cuerpo? Dije si con la cabeza. —¡Que chabon! Y pregunté pensar dije: —¿Por cuanto tiempo? Fran me miró y sonrió. —Lo que vos digas. —Okey… vamos a probar con un mes y vemos. Se levantó y se acercó a mi silla. Me levantó como si no pesara nada y me abrazó apretándome contra su pecho. Después me soltó y sin esperar un minuto se sacó la remera con el movimiento más impresionante que vi en mi vida. Con ambos brazos agarró la parte de abajo y como si levantara una bandera se sacó la remera. Sus abdominales perfectos aparecieron uno encima de otro y después su pecho enorme… fuerte… —¡Vas a ver! —me dijo mientras flexionaba ambos brazos—¡Vas a disfrutar cada día de ver el lomo que tengo! ¡Me voy a poner enorme! Me voy a volver el hombre más musculoso que viste en tu puta vida y me voy a pasear delante tuyo para que lo veas. Me despeinó con una mano y se fue a cambiar para ir al trabajo. Ese mes fue una locura. Fran crecía como una bestia. Todos los días lo veía más y más grande y ya no solo se paseaba sin remera, sino que cada tanto flexionaba ambos brazos y me decía: —¿Y? ¿Que tal mis músculos? ¿Te gusta lo que estás viendo? ¡Me estoy poniendo enorme! Yo me quedaba mudo, viendo el tamaño imposible de su pecho. ¡Así tenía que ser el pecho de un hombre! A fin de mes no solo pesaba casi 100 kilos sino que además me sacaba dos cabezas. Cuando nos cruzábamos en el baño me decía cosas como: —¿Que tal la vista desde ahí abajo, putito? ¿Estoy demasiado grande? ¿Cuantas veces vas a pajearte hoy después de verme en bolas? —y flexionaba su pecho enorme y fuerte— Apuesto que tengo el pecho más grandes que viste en tu puta vida. En el gimnasio no hay nadie que tenga unas tetas como yo —dijo y mientras se masajeaba el pecho con una mano— No te das una idea la fuerza que tengo en mis pectorales, te apuesto a que puedo levantar más de diez veces tu peso. Cuando termino de entrenar tengo el pecho tan duro que apenas me puedo poner la remera. ¿Te acordas el traje de lucha que usaba cuando me vine a vivir acá? ¿Te imaginás como me quedaría ahora con estos músculos? ¿Te gustaría que me lo pusiera? Sin pensarlo dije que si… —¡jaja! Que puto que sos… Esa noche me masturbé sin parar hasta que me dolió la pija. Cuando llegó el mes siguiente le dije: —¿Como seguimos? Yo solo quería verlo sin remera… cada día más grande y musculoso… lo imaginaba teniendo que agacharse para pasar por la puerta. —Hagamos esto… ¿Que te parece si hacemos un arreglo por peso? —¿Por peso? —¡Claro! En lugar de que yo no te pague el alquiler… vos me pagas por kilo… —¿Por kilo? —Es así, ya hice las cuentas… vos ahora me estás “dando” esta plata que es igual al total del alquiler… ¿no? Si dividimos este numero por mi peso… da esto... ¿me seguís? Entonces pensé que quizás podemos bajar un poco el precio por kilo… de ese modo yo tendría que ganar aproximadamente… mmm… veinte kilos más para seguir sin pagar… ¿se entiende? Agarré la hoja donde había hecho todos los cálculos y la miré mientras pensaba: ¿20 kilos más de músculo? Fran ya era enorme, o sea podía aparecer en cualquier portada de cualquier revista de deporte. ¿Podía ganar más músculo? —De esa manera me estimulo a crecer y vos… podes verlo… ¿que te parece? —dijo y me guiñó el ojo— ¿Te imaginás lo que va a ser mi cuerpo con 20 kilos mas? Lo que pasó ese mes cambió todo. Yo había imaginado que Fran seguiría creciendo como venía haciendo hasta entonces… quizás un poco más lento, pero que todo sería mas o menos igual. Estaba muy equivocado. Ahi fui cuando vi lo que podían hacer los anabólicos. Al términar la primer semana fue como si de repente hubiera inflado todos sus músculos y los mantuviera todo el tiempo en tensión. Fue como si sus músculos adquirieran otra calidad, otra fuerza. Al principio no me imaginé lo que estaba pasando, pero algunas cosas me empezaron a llamar la atención. Poco a poco estaba más agresivo… —Mirá puto, mirá el tamaño de mis brazo —me decía y flexionaba sus brazos para después mirarme sobre su pecho como si mirara una basura— Así tiene que ser el cuerpo de un hombre…no esa mierdita enana que sos vos A veces se me acercaba demasiado y “sin querer” me empujaba: —Uh, disculpá putito, no te ví ahi abajo. A veces no me doy cuenta lo enorme que estoy. O a veces tan solo me decía: —¿Y? ¿Te está gustando lo que ves? ¿Que sentís al verme sin remera? ¿Te calienta mi pecho musculoso? No te das una idea lo fuerte que estoy. En el gimnasio estoy levantando como un toro. Después de cada una de esas frases yo solo podía encerrarme en mi cuarto a masturbarme. Una mañana de sábado recuerdo que me levanté temprano, fui a la cocina y me preparé el desayuno. Primero escuché la puerta de su cuarto abrirse y después los pasos de oso que daba Fran al caminar. Yo estaba preparándome el café cuando sentí su sombra enorme pasar por encima mío. Sin decir nada abrió la heladera y la volvió a cerrar. Cuando lo miré estaba tomando leche directamente del cartón. Solo tenía puestos unos calzoncillos que dejaban a la vista la enorme pija que todavía estaba un poco parada. Su cuerpo era una montaña de músculos. Sus piernas apretaban contra la tela del calzón pero su cintura era del tamaño justo, solo si seguías subiendo su cuerpo se ensanchaba hasta ser casi del tamaño de una puerta doble. Un pecho impresionante todo musculoso coronaba los abdominales marcados y a ambos lados unos hombros gigantescos con unos brazos abultados llenos de venas. Un poco de leche le cayó sobre el pecho y dibujó un río entre los pectorales gigantescos. Entonces me di cuenta que Fran me miraba. Me guiñó un ojo y tuve que irme despacio al baño y masturbarme con la imagen de su cuerpo desnudo y duro tomando leche. El último día del mes, después de desayunar, dijo: —Veni, putito. Vamos a pesarme. Se paró sobre la balanza pero ni siquiera se asomó sobre su pecho para mirar. —¿Que dice? Me agaché para ver. —125 kilos… —jaja… te dije… Yo no lo podía creer. O sea, se notaba la diferencia. Fran estaba enorme, una montaña de músculos todos marcados, uno sobre otros. —Me debes esto —me dijo mostrándome un papel con una cuenta. —¡¿Que?! —Es lo que habíamos arreglado… el arreglo era por kilo y ¿ves como acá dice que si pesaba 120 me pagabas exactamente lo mismo que el alquiler? Bueno, ahora peso 5 kilos mas que eso. Por lo que me debes esta plata. No es mucho… Yo no lo podía creer y me lo quedé mirando con la boca abierta. —¿Que pasa? ¿No me querés pagar? Su cara cambió de repente. Dio un paso hacia adelante y yo uno hacia atrás. Estaba contra la pared. —Te das cuenta que no es muy buena idea no querer pagarle a un hombre de 125 kilos, ¿no? Mirá el lomo que tengo… ¿Sabés lo que puedo hacerte con estos músculos? Eso bastó para que saliera corriendo a buscar mi billetera. Traje la plata y la puse sobre la mesa. Él la miró todavía enojado y en un segundo cambió la expresión. Con una sonrisa dijo: —Te estaba boludeando, enano. Quedátela, estos cinco kilos de músculo van por mi cuenta. Disfrutalos —dijo e hizo su pecho subir y bajar— Seguimos entonces con el mismo arreglo… ¿te parece? Solo que esta vez aclaramos que sin importar cuanto peso gane no me tenés que dar plata vos. ¿Te parece? Yo todavía estaba temblando. Dije si. —Pero si te parece podemos agregar esta otra hoja. Y me pasó una hoja con precios. Me miró con una sonrisa. La miré sin entender nada. —Te lo explico… esto que vez acá es el precio por tocar… y esto que vez acá es el grupo muscular. Por ejemplo si me querés tocar el pecho durante un minuto sale tanto… ¿se entiende? Mi cabeza de pronto se había detenido. —¿Que pasa? ¿Te lo tengo que explicar? ¡Es fácil, enano! La idea es que me pagues por tocarme. ¿O me decís que no te dan ganas de tocar estos músculos? Mírame el pecho… bueno, sale esto. Se paró y se fue a cambiar para ir al trabajo. Ese día llamé a la oficina diciendo que estaba enfermo. Me masturbé hasta que pensé que me moría. Después dormí y cuando faltaba poco para que Fran volviera a casa me fui a caminar. Mi cabeza no paraba de dar vueltas, nunca me había pasado algo como eso. Simplemente estaba perdido…. era una locura… O sea, era mucha guita. La verdad… ¿que estaba pensando? ¡No iba a pagar por tocarlo! ¡Era ridículo! Cuando volví a casa él estaba terminando de comer. Puse la plata en la mesa y respiré hondo. Fran sonrió, se limpió la boca con la mano, corrió la silla, abrió las piernas y mirándose el pecho con una sonrisa perversa dijo: —Todo tuyo. Incluso sentado me sacaba una cabeza. Yo era un enanito frente a un gigante musculoso. Me acerqué temblando y apoyé ambas manos sobre su enorme pecho. Era mucho más duro y suave de lo que había imaginado. Era impresionante, casi tan grande como mis dos almohadas. Era pesado y cada vez que lo levantaba caía de nuevo. De pronto lo puso duro y fue como si se volviera una roca. Comencé a masajearlo… —¿Te gusta enano? ¿Te gusta tocar mi pecho? ¡Así es un pecho de hombre! Salí corriendo y me encerré en el baño un segundo antes de acabar. No había llegado ni a tocarlo durante un minuto. Se imaginan como siguió todo. Bueno, yo no… nunca pensé que me podría pasar algo como esto. Cada día que llegaba a casa me decía a mi mismo que no iba a pagar más… que esperaría hasta la próxima semana… o bueno, hasta dentro de tres días… aguantaría hasta mañana… Cada día pagaba por tocarlo. Y cada día pasaba lo mismo. —¿Te gustan mis brazos? —decía y los flexionaba mientras yo lo tocaba— Apretá fuerte, dale. ¡Apretá como hombre! Ja, imagínate la fuerza que tengo que ni siquiera podes apretar un centímetro… ¡Dale apretá con fuerza, putito! ¡Mirá las manos de enano que tenés sobre mis enormes músculos! Lo toqué todo y cuando lo toqué todo varias veces trajo una nueva hoja con “promos”. “Cuerpo completo” o “después de entrenar” o “en pose”. Las probé todas… y al final del mes me di cuenta que había gastado todo mi sueldo. No podía creerlo, pero al mismo tiempo no podía parar… Al día siguiente fue Fran el que dijo: —Ahora no puedo, mañana. Se puso una remera sobre sus enormes músculos y salió. Esa noche no pude dormir y tuve que masturbarme de nuevo hasta que me doliera todo. A la madrugada lo escuché volver, pero no estaba solo. —Shhhh, no hagas ruido que mi amigo está durmiendo… —dijo en voz baja. A los cinco minutos la mina empezó a gritar mientras él se la cogía en su cuarto. Intenté masturbarme de nuevo pero solo logré que me salieran lágrimas de los ojos. Fran empezó a traer mujeres casi todas las noches. Algunas tuve que conocerlas ya que me las cruzaba en la cena y otras tan solo las escuché gritar… una… dos…. tres… cuatro… cinco veces… Fran estaba cogiendo por todo lo que antes no había cogido. De seguro estaba aprovechando toda la plata que yo le había dado por tocarlo para pagar por esas mujeres… porque no había duda de que eran putas… o sea… eran mujeres demasiado impresionantes como para no serlo… Una mañana después de que desayunásemos Fran, yo y una de ellas y de que ella se fuera sin siquiera saludarme le pregunté: —¿Cuanto te cobra? Fran me miró sonriendo. Su cuerpo estaba inmenso. Hacía varias semanas que no tocaba esos músculos y solo podía imaginar lo duros que estaban ahora. Estiró los brazos dejándome ver el tamaño de sus músculos. Estaba inmenso, nunca había visto un hombre tan grande. Dejó escapar una risa. —Ya no pago… —No entiendo… –Yo no soy el que paga… Lo miré sin entender. Se puso de pie para ir a su cuarto… su espalda era una montaña de músculos haciendo un trabajo perfecto. Cuando volvió traía un cajón. Adentro estaba lleno de fajos de billetes. —Son ellas las que pagan. —¡¿Que….?! ¿Me estás jodiendo? ¿Cuanto…? —¡ja! ¿Que pasa? ¿Querés saber cuanto cuesta que te coja esta montaña de músculos? —dijo y su pecho subió y bajó para después flexionar sus brazos… ¡Dios mío, eran enormes! Me quedé mudo. —Jaja, que puto que sos… Acá está el precio. Era imposible que alguien pagara… que una mina pagara… era mucho… ¿aceptaría tarjeta? ¿También era para tipos? —Vení que te muestro —me dijo y casi se me paró el corazón. Pero no fue lo que yo imaginaba. Se sentó en el sillón y prendió la notebook. Me senté a lado. Apoyó la notebook en la mesita y le dio play al video. Se dejó caer contra el respaldo y pasó la mano por arriba mío, me apretó contra su cuerpo —mi cachete apretado por su pecho— y dijo: —Vas a ver todo el show. La mina estaba en cuatro sobre la cama moviéndose hacia atrás y hacia adelante. Estaba filmado con el celular. Fran lo levantó y filmó el cuerpo de ella desde arriba y después se filmó a él. Todos sus músculos enormes y transpirados brillaban por la poca luz del cuarto. Era un compilado en el que se cogía a una mina tras otra. Algunas de parado. Otras contra la pared, otras las aplastaba bajo sus músculos. Era una locura…. pero lo que era una locura era el tamaño de su pija. Era imposiblemente grande. Fue entonces que puso su enorme mano sobre mi pantalón y empezó a acariciarme. —Mejor sin esto —dijo y me sacó el pantalón en un segundo. Mi pija estaba parada debajo de calzóncillo…. parada es una forma de decir… nunca tuve una pija grande… bueno, okey… la tengo bastante chica… Fran ahogó una risa y me empezó a masturbar con dos dedos. Cada dedo suyo era mas grande que mi pija. —Es como un pescadito —me dijo con tono de burla— ¿No se te pone dura? La verdad era que no se me ponía nunca muy dura… Estaba por decir algo cuando vi lo que estaba pasando en su pantalón. Era como si hubiera metido dos bananas… tres bananas en su bolsillo. —¿Querés ver una pija en serio? —dijo y con su otra mano llevó la mía hasta tocar su pija. Acabé en un segundo. —¡Uhhgg! ¡Boludo! —dijo y se limpió el semen en mi remera—. ¡Que chabon! Vení… encárgate vos de esta… Y se sacó el pantalón. La pija más grande que vi en mi vida se paró delante de mis ojos. —Tan grande como el resto de mis músculos… —dijo bromeando mientras me miraba y miraba su pija gigantesca—¿Y? ¿No vas a hacer nada? Con la mano temblando le agarré la pija. Era tan grande y estaba tan dura que no podía cerrar la mano. —Con las dos —me dijo. Y lo agarré rápido con la otra. Apoyó la cabeza contra el respaldo y se echó para atrás. —Mas fuerte. Su pija era mas grande que mi brazo extendido, era simplemente enorme y no pude imaginar quien podría aguantar… que mina podría soportar que se le cogieran con una pija tan grande. —Mas fuerte, enano. Todo su cuerpo estaba cubierto de músculos enormes, duros y brillantes. Incluso desnudo era como si tuviera una armadura puesta y su pija era una espada… un cañón. —Más fuerte… ¡dale! Estaba apretando con todas mis fuerzas, pero él apenas lo sentía. Se puso de pie y me levantó con una mano. Me cargó hasta el baño, prendió la luz y se paró frente al espejo. Todo su cuerpo musculoso brillando bajo la luz del baño. Me sentó en su pija y me dijo: —Hace como si fuera tu pija… ¡Dale! Me agarré para no caerme. —Imaginate que te creció una pija enorme de repente… ¡Dale! Imagínate que te podes a coger a todas las minas… que todas se mueren por chuparte la pija… por tocarte los músculos —y mientras decía eso flexionaba ambos brazos— que sos el hombre más musculoso del mundo, más fuerte que un toro y más duro que un tanque. Imagínate que empezás a ganar guita porque todos quieren tocarte los músculos y vos solo creces y creces y tenés una fuerza de la puta madre y estás todo duro y podes garchar por horas y horas y acabar una y otra vez. Ahhh… soy enorme. Mirá el lomo que tengo, putito. Mirá el tamaño de mis músculos. Soy una bestia… ¿sabes lo que hacen las bestias como yo? Cogen… Me bajó de su pija y me dejó en el piso frente a él con su pija apuntando a mi cara. Era el gigante musculoso más grande que había visto en mi puta vida. —Mirá putito… mirá el tamaño de mis músculos… imaginate lo que te haría si te garchara con esta pija… te rompería el culo… no podrías volver a sentarte en tu puta vida… ¿querés probarla? Apuesto a que me querés chupar toda la pija… —Si… —Jajaja, que puto que sos… está bien, esta corre por mi cuenta. Y con una mano en mi cabeza me sostuvo mientras me acercaba la pija. Era enorme, era demasiado grande, imposible que me entrara en la boca. —Abrí grande… jaja, te voy a romper la boca, boludo… soy enorme… Yo respiraba por la nariz intentando no ahogarme… —¿Que pasa, enano? ¿La tengo muy grande? Eso te pasa por querer chuparle la pija a un gigante como yo. ahhhh… Te rompería la boca solo porque sos un puto de mierda… Mirá el tamaño de mis músculos… Esto es un hombre… No esa mierda enana que sos vos… Mirá mis brazos… Mirá lo fuerte que estoy… Esto es un hombre… ¿Me escuchaste, putito? ¡Abrí la boca o te la rompo con mi poronga! Apuesto a que te morís de ganas de tocarme los músculos… No podes pagarlo enano. Estoy demasiado grande, demasiado duro, soy demasiado fuerte. Y ni bien acabó me atraganté y todo se volvió blanco y después negro… A la semana siguiente Fran había renunciado a su trabajo. Cuando yo regresaba de la oficina (lo más rápido que podía) encontraba el tacho de basura lleno de preservativos gigantes y ropa rota de mujer. Fran se había convertido en un prostituto… Con la guita que ganaba empezó a comprarse ropa de marca, perfumes, computadoras, celulares, todas cosas carísimas y para coronarlo se compró una camioneta tan enorme como él. Estaba cobrando tanta plata que me regalaba guita: —Comprate algo, putito. Pero yo solo quería pagarle… Quería tocar su enorme lomo… Ahora que yo apenas le llegaba a la cintura Fran se había convertido en un dios inmenso, fuerte y musculoso… y en mi bolsillo yo apretaba la plata que había sacado del banco. Un día encontré en el piso la hoja con los nuevos precios… Ni siquiera el sueldo de un mes me alcanzaría para tocarlo durante un minuto… Fran se había vuelto un prostituto VIP… Las mujeres que se acostaban con él eran millonarias. Mujeres que solo existían en las revistas y en la televisión. Y Fran se las cogía a todas. Tenía sus clientas regulares que lo amaban, que le tocaban el pecho y se volvían locas con su fuerza, con la enorme pija que tenía. Cuando desayunábamos juntos muchas veces alguna de ella dejaba caer un fajo de billetes sobre la mesa solo para tocarlo mientras él desayunaba. —¿Te gusta mi cuerpo, putita? —le decía él. Una noche llegó con tres mujeres. Con solo verlas se notaba que eran más grandes, quizás tendrían cuarenta años. Todas operadas, con las tetas enormes y llenas de guita, de oro por todos lados. Las llevó a su cuarto y se las empezó a coger… me di cuenta porque empezaron a gritar como locas. Pero de un segundo a otro se quedaron callados y entonces Fran entró en mi cuarto… desnudo. Era como si una montaña de músculos pasara de pronto por la puerta. Tenía todo el cuerpo brillante, cubierto de un aceite que lo hacía verse todavía más grande…. y su pija… gigantesca… parada… dura como un tronco… un mástil frente a mi que estaba acostado en mi cama… —Che, necesito que me hagas un favor… —me dijo desde arriba de sus increíbles músculos… era una bestia toda inflada— Necesito que me filmes cogiéndome a estas viejas… —¿Que? —Son clientas mias y quieren tener un video mío cogiéndomelas… Dijo eso y salió (agachándose para no destrozar la pared). Lo seguí. En su cuarto la ropa estaba tirada por todo el piso y en su cama estaban acostadas las tres mujeres, desnudas, con sus tetas inmensas, sus culos operados y con la cara y el cuerpo cubiertos de semen. —Awww que tierno tu amiguito… —dijo una. —¡Que precioso! ¿Nos vas hacer el favor? ¡Que ternura! —Queremos que lo filmes a él… y ese cuerpo musculoso que tiene cogiéndonos… Sos hermoso, Fran… Un semental… —Filmale el pecho, mirá el pecho enorme que tiene… ¡que macho! —Filmale la pija, mirá esa pija. —¡A mi primero! —gritó una y Fran se la cogió contra la pared, apretándola con sus músculos mientras ella le chupaba el pecho que la aplastaba. —Filmale la espalda, mirá esa espalda llena de músculos… mirá lo fuerte que es… —Mirá esas piernas… Dios mio… es una bestia… Y Fran se las cogió a todas dos veces y yo filmando todo. Cuando terminó se acercó a mi y yo retrocedí hasta quedar pegado contra la pared. Me sacó el celular y se puso a ver el video. Su pija parada todavía goteaba sobre mi cabeza, sus piernas musculosas y enormes me impedían cualquier movimiento. Olía a mucho sexo. Y todo el cuerpo le brillaba. —Bien filmado, putito… estoy enorme —me dijo y con una mano me despeinó me apretó contra sus piernas para luego acostarse en la cama con las tres minas. Los cuatro se pusieron a ver el video mientras ellas lo tocaban y lo besaban y mordían. —¡Gracias, precioso! –dijo una y me tiró un beso. —¡Que buen ojo! ¡Mirá como se ve todo tu cuerpo, Fran! ¡Estas enorme! ¡Mirá estos brazos! Pero una de ellas no decía nada y me miraba. Tenía los ojos grandes y una mirada que entendía las cosas. Se lamió los labios y dijo: —¿Como podemos agradecerte? —mientras le tocaba el pecho a Fran. Pasó su mano sobre esos enormes pectorales y después le agarró la pija todavía dura. —Fran, ¿como podemos pagarle a tu amigo? —¿A él? —me miró y me guiñó un ojo— Creo que ya está contento con verme coger… —¡Aw, en serio? ¿Es de “esos”? —Precioso, ¿así que te gustan los músculos de tu amigo Fran? ¿Viste lo enorme que es? ¡Mirá este pecho! ¡No hay ningún hombre con un pecho tan grande! ¡Que duro! ¡Aw, Fran, sos inmenso! —¿Fran, cuanto te debemos? —Ahi está la lista de precios —dijo él señalando la pared sin dejar de ver el video. La mujer de los ojos grandes se paró y se acercó a la pared. Leyó la lista de precios y después me miró. –Chicas… —dijo y regresó a la cama— ¿Que tal si le hacemos un regalo a nuestro amiguito? —¿Un regalo? —preguntó otra y cuando la primera le susurró al oido sonrió. —¡Un regalo bien grande y musculoso! —Aw, sí, ¿te da ganas, chiquito? ¿Querés saber lo que se siente que te coja el hombre más musculoso del mundo? Mirá el tamaño de esta pija, mirá los hombros que tiene. Mirá este pecho y estos brazos. Es un mancho inmenso y coge como los dioses. —Tomá, Fran. Esto es por lo nuestro y esto es por tu amiguito… queremos un servicio completo… así disfruta de todos tus enormes músculos… Fran se puso de pie y se acercó hasta aplastarme con sus piernas. —Parece que es tu día de suerte, putito —dijo mientras se masturbaba la pija llena de semen— Vas a poder disfrutar de todo mi cuerpo… —dijo y me levantó y me sentó en la punta de su pija, pero antes me arrancó la ropa de un tirón. Sentí su pija gigantesca contra mi culo y como se mojaba todo. Su pecho me apretaba contra la pared, intenté empujarlo con mis manos pero era como empujar una pared, una montaña llena de músculos. Fran estaba todo duro y caliente. —¿Que pasa, chiquito? —dijo una de las minas. Ambas se acercaron a Fran y empezaron a tocarle las enormes piernas. —¿No querías esto? ¿No querías tocar los enormes músculos de tu amigo? Mirá lo grande que es. Aprovecha y sácate las ganas de tocarlo. Mirá el pecho que tiene. Mirá estos brazos enormes, mirá lo grandes que son sus músculos. Uh, estás re duro, Fran. Tocale el pecho, dale. —¡Que flacucho de mierda que sos! —me dijo Fran. —¿Que se siente estar sentado en la pija más grande que vas a ver en tu vida? —preguntó una de ellas. —¿Te das cuenta que te va a romper el orto? —preguntó otra. —Intentá defenderte —dijo Fran apretándome contra la pared— Dale, empujá, empujá en serio, dale putito. ¿Que pasa? ¿Estoy muy grande? ¿Soy muy fuerte? —Abrile ese culito que tiene, Fran. —Te voy a mostrar como coge un verdadero hombre. Uh como te va a gustar esto —dijo Fran flexionándo ambos brazos. —Fran, queremos que pongas toda tu fuerza en romperle bien ese culito que tiene. —Ja! —se río Fran— Lo voy a matar solo con abrirsle el culo con mi pija. La tengo demasiado grande para un culo tan chiquito —y después mirándome a mi con una mueca dijo— Dale, enano, tocame todo, sácate las ganas, toca todos mis enormes músculos. Uf, estoy enorme. —Espero que estés preparado, chiquitín —dijo una de ellas—Te va a violar un semental de 200 kilos. Y eso fue lo último que escuché, antes de que Fran me rompiera el culo con su enorme poronga.
  5. Herald

    (un)identical twins (1)

    One Jason heard the rumbling sounds coming from his brother's room. "Can't he just do anything quiet", he said to himself and returned to the book he was reading. He had been granted a full academic scholarship to the prestigious university a few blocks away from his house. He was all too happy he would get a top degree and could do it from the comfort of his own room. Brett, Jason's brother, was throwing his clothes atop his bed and putting them into the two large bags on the floor. He was eager to leave for Orchid University and was going to enjoy living on campus. His athletic skills had earned him a football scholarship and he just knew that professional football was his future. Jason was washing his hands when his brother entered the bathroom. He rolled his eyes as he saw that his brother was walking around shirtless once again. Despite the fact they were twins, their brown hair and dark eyes was their only resemblance. At 5'8 and weighing 155 pounds, Jason was a typical nerd: a smart guy, always buried in books, shy and somewhat clumsy. His triangular face and the absence of any beard whatsoever made him look more like a 15 year old. Brett on the other hand was a tad taller (5'9) but weighed an impressive 212 pounds of mostly muscle. He was a pure jock: when not out on the football field, he was pumping iron in the gym, didn't miss an opportunity to ditch his shirt to show off his muscular torso. His strong jaw line and five o'clock beard made him appear a few years older than 18. "Ya done here, little bro?", Brett asked in his deep baritone. "I was born first. That makes me the big brother technically", Jason replied in his higher voice. "You? The big brother? Think again", Brett said and flexed his right arm, "18 inches of power". "Muscle won't take you everywhere in life", Jason shot back. "I'll take brawn over brain every day, bro. How many chicks did your big brain get you so far?", Brett asked and caressed his six-pack, "My muscles got me every girl I wanted. Now be a good little boy and let me shower in peace". Jason shook his head and hurried away from the bathroom as his brother didn't even wait for his reaction to pull down his own pants. He heard the water turn on as he headed back to his room. "One day he's going to get what he deserves", he mumbled to himself. He entered his room and found a parcel on his desk. He opened the little box and discovered an old looking book. A small note fell from the book as he lifted it from the box. He retrieved it and read off the message: A small gift for someone greatly interested in books. Congratulations on year scholarship and good luck in university. Grandpa Jason opened the book and noticed it was some kind of ancient spell book. He knew his grandpa had a great collection of rare books. He had spent hours and hours with him in his library, fascinated by the tales his grandpa had told. Unfortunately, his grandparents lived on the other side of the country and visits had become very rare. He dove onto his bed and began reading the curious book. The next morning Brett took one of his signature long showers. Everyone in the house knowing what he was doing from the loud moans escaping the bathroom. He appeared bright and shining at the breakfast table, a skintight shirt hugging his torso. "Gotta feed this body", he mumbled with a full mouth as he took a fourth serving of pancakes. "Makes us proud, son", his father said, "Maintain the athletic heritage from our family". "Don't worry", Brett replied and gulped down a protein shake, "I will take the field by storm". He gulped down another shake, patted his six-pack and burped. "Fine. Let's get you off to Orchid university then", his father said and get up. "Jason, honey", his mother yelled, "we're off to take your brother to his campus. We'll be back tomorrow. There's plenty of food in the fridge." "Always with his head in the books", his father said while he shook his head and followed his wife and son to the car. Jason watched from the window in his room and saw his parents and his brother drive away. He went to the bathroom and headed into the long walk-in shower. He grinned as he noticed the traces of his brother's morning ritual on the tilled wall: several sticky stains of cum glistened on the dark tiles as they were slowly sliding down. "Luckily Brett always shoots his loads as high as possible up the wall", he said to himself. He pulled a fresh hanky from his pocket and let it soak up as much cum as possible. When he was done, he returned to his room and put the soaked fabric on his desk. He wrote the formula from the book on a piece of paper, according to the instructions. He then proceeded to reading the formula out loud: "Let the body of he who's fluids shall cover this page bond with mine. Let my body fourfold gain whatever mass he should obtain". He grabbed the hanky and rubbed it along the page, smearing his brother's cum onto the paper. In the car, a sudden wave of dizziness hit Brett. His vision went dark for a split second but then returned to normal. In his room, Jason felt an analogue sensation shoot through his own body. He hid the paper inside his desk. And then, the semester got underway. ------------------------------------------------------------ One month later. Brett indeed did well on the football team. He was among the best of the freshmen and everyone agreed that he could lead the team one day. He had become friends with most of the 'big five': the five biggest guys on the team, the group of seniors that dominated their part of the game. Four of them had invited him over for a drink after his first month on the team. The fifth, Mike, the star quarterback who led the team hadn't bothered. He didn't hang out with anyone on the team: his rich parents had rented him a flat off campus and his natural arrogance made him a first class jerk. But his skills on the football field combined with his 240 pounds of muscle made him an almost unstoppable force on the field. Even in the locker room his teammates moved away when he came in. The competitive spirit on the team drove Brett to the gym every day combined with his practice out on the field. Jason eased through his classes with little effort, studying punctually and avoiding the jocks. He didn't have any real friends as he kept to himself in the back of most classes and always returned home. The curse he'd cast on his brother did have positive effects: he'd put on 20 pound of pure muscle since the start of the academic year. At 175 pounds of defined muscle, he looked more like a fitness model when he took off his shirt. Even his face now looked more like that of an 18 year old with a more squared jaw line and the hint of a beard. He kept his new physique well hidden underneath baggy shirts he took from his brother's closet. Only back at home, he went into his brother's room, took off the baggy shirt and admired the new mass on his torso. Brett didn't understand why his body wasn't reacting to his training regime. He decided to up the intensity of his training: he doubled his daily workouts and upped his protein consumption drastically, gulping down shakes whenever he could. During his new early morning workouts, he frequently bumped into Mike in the otherwise deserted gym. The huge star player only nodded to him as he went through his workout. The effects of his brother's increased training were quickly visible on Jason's body. During the next two weeks, he put on another 20 pounds of muscle. His new weight (195 pounds) and muscular arms (17 inches) made him look like a very well muscled fitness model. The once baggy shirts from his brother's closet now hugged his torso nicely and he no longer hid his physique. More heads turned his way as he passed to his classes and even his dad made proud comments. He began drinking protein shakes from the tubes left in his brother's room. One day he even decided to join the local gym. A bit nervous he stepped in and went to the front desk. "What can I do for you?", the guy behind the desk asked. "I'm new here", Jason said, "I would like to join this gym." "You're obviously used to working out", the guy stated as he took in Jason's body, "I'll let you try out for free and we'll discuss the possibilities after you training. Locker room's over there." "Thanks", Jason said. He went into the locker room, changed and entered the gym. Three other guys were working out as he entered. They nodded to him as he went to the bench press. His body seemed to know what to do and the next hour, Jason eased through a good workout. By the end, his pecs and triceps were pumped. He showered quickly and went to the bar to order a shake. The same guy from the desk made him a protein shake. "Had a good workout I see", the guy said and motioned to Jason's pumped arms. "Yeah", Jason replied, "I think I'll join this gym." "Good", the guy stated, "Membership for a month? Or a year?" "Make it a year", Jason answered, "And I'll have another shake too." "There you go", the guy said, "All done. Hope to see you again soon." Jason gulped down his second protein shake and went home. It was the first of his daily visits to the gym. As the semester went on and got near the end, Brett's performance on the field began waning. His body lacked its usual level of energy, during practice he went from being the best among the freshmen to a good top five and in the gym most of his lifts were off. He still looked muscular but hadn't gained one single pound since arriving at Orchid University despite his grueling workout regime and the vast amount of protein he was ingesting. He was probably close to overtraining for once was happy that exams were coming up so he would have a break from training. --------------------------------------------------------------------- At the end of the semester Brett had passed his exams reasonably and was happy to return home for the holidays. He took a train home and arrived mid-afternoon. He entered the house and found his brother lying on the couch. "You're home early", Jason said as he sat up. Brett noticed his brother's deepened voice and blinked as he recognized the shirt. "Are you wearing one of my shirts?", he asked. "Yea", Jason replied, "Mine don't fit anymore since my recent growth spurt. Yours are fine. Bit tight though." Brett didn't respond but took in how the shirt clung to his formerly bony brother's torso. "Huh", he said as he noticed his brother was speaking. "I asked if ya want to go hit the gym. It's time for my workout", Jason repeated while he stood up. "You work out?", Brett asked incredulously. Despite feeling far from okay, he couldn't resist the chance of showing his grown brother who was the alpha. "Fine", he said, "I'll go change and I'll show ya how a real man trains, little bro." A few minutes later, Jason drove both of them to the gym in his new car. None of them spoke a word, the tension between the two brothers hanging in the air: Jason eager to show what his new muscles could do and Brett determined to highlight his dominance. They continued their silence as Jason parked the car and they walked into the gym. "Yo Sam", Jason said to the guy behind the desk, "Brought my bro today. Ya mind if he joins me?". "Bro, I used to train here. I'm a member. Still have my card", Brett interjected and handed his card to Sam. "Yar membership isn't active if ya didn't pay", Jason answered. "Card is no longer active", Sam read from the computer screen, "Do you want to reactivate you membership?". "He's only here for a week. Ya mind if he trains with me for free?", Jason asked. "No problem, J. I'll arrange it", Sam replied. "J?", Brett asked as they entered the locker room. "The guys around here call me J", Jason said and tossed his bag into the locker, "Let's toss some weight around". Brett followed his brother into the deserted gym up to the rack of dumbbells. "Friday is back", Jason said as he grabbed a pair of heavy dumbbells and began doing rows. Brett followed reluctantly: his back wasn't his strong point and his old level of energy was still lacking. He couldn't believe how easy his brother handled the heavy dumbbells. The guy kept cranking out reps when his back was burning from the effort and he dropped the dumbbells. The next hour Jason cruised through his workout while Brett struggled to keep up. Whenever Jason saw his brother grab a weight, he made sure to grab a heavier one and pump out more reps. "Something wrong, bro?", he asked as he saw Brett trying to catch his breath. "Feeling a bit tired from my trip home", Brett muttered in between deep breaths, "We're done yet?". "One more exercise, bro", Jason said and walked over to the pull up station. He grabbed the bar and performed 50 perfect reps. Brett looked at his brother in disbelief, watching the muscles on his wide back work. He nodded 'no' as his brother motioned him to start. "Come on, bro. Thought ya were gonna show me how a real man trains", Jason said smugly and folded his arms in front of his chest to emphasize the new thickness of his biceps. "Fine", Brett replied to maintain some of his old dominant pose. He grabbed the bar and pulled himself up. He tried to ignore how little fluent the motion looked compared to his brother. He reached 15 reps before his grip faltered and he jumped down. He avoided his brother's gaze while he sat down on a nearby bench. "I'm done", he mumbled exhaustedly. Jason just grinned and performed three more long sets of pull ups. "Let's call it a day, bro", he said and walked out of the gym, enjoying how his pumped lats pushed his arms out from his sides and added wideness to his posture. "Prepare me a shake for after my shower, Sam", he said as he passed the bar. Brett followed his brother, marveled at the formerly shy guy's new dominant attitude and the wideness of his frame. As they entered the locker room and begin stripping down, he felt like saying something to excuse his lame work out if he wanted to keep his dominant position in the family. "You're lucky I'm tired from my trip, Jason", he said, "If not you would have begged for mercy". The lack of conviction in his tone only emphasized the hollowness of his words and only diminished his dominance. "Tired. Right, bro", Jason added sarcastically. Savoring how his brother tried to ignore their new statuses. He didn't even bother to look aside and kept stripping down. Brett entered the shower first and went to the furthest shower head in the right corner. He faced the wall as he turned on the water. His mind still trying to process the new reality. A few moments later he heard another shower turning on and he cautiously turned his head a bit. He saw his brother standing under the shower in the center of the left wall. Jason wasn't facing the wall as he showered. Ever since he'd grown he didn't miss an opportunity to display his body. Brett glanced from the corner of his eyes, blinking when he saw his brother's biceps twitch as the guy washed his hair. He quickly turned his head back to the wall when his brother opened his eyes. "I'm gonna have my shake, bro. Don't take too long, I wanna get home for dinner. Gotta feed my body", Jason said and left the shower. A few minutes later Brett showed up in the bar. His brother was gulping down a second protein shake based on the other empty glass on the bar. "Yeah, up to 215 since last week", he heard Jason say to Sam as he approached. "Ya pay these shakes, bro. I got ya in for free. See ya tomorrow, Sam", Jason said and stood up. Brett quickly paid his brother's shakes and followed Jason to his car. Back home, Brett was greeted by his parents and the family enjoyed their first family dinner in months. Unlike before he'd left to Orchid University, Brett wasn't being served first. Jason took the biggest steak and the largest serving of potatoes. After the first serving, Jason and Brett reached for the steak that was left. A quick glance and a slight flex of his brother's right arm made Brett retreat his fork and he watched his brother devour the juicy steak. Just three months ago there would have been no question to whom would eat the last steak. Somehow his once lanky brother had become more dominant while Brett had been at Orchid University. As his brother helped himself to his third serving of potatoes, Brett excused himself and mumbled an excuse of being fatigued from his trip. "Hope ya're feeling better tomorrow for our work out, bro", Jason said with a full mouth. The next morning Brett did feel better when he got up. He went down and found his brother dressed in his workout gear at the table. "Feeling fresh, bro?", Jason asked and gulped down a protein shake. "Let's hit the gym and I'll show you", Brett spat back and made himself a shake too. "Can't wait", Jason replied with a grin. Just minutes later the two brothers drove off to the gym, greeted Sam and entered the weight room. "Arm day, Jason", Brett said and grabbed a 80 pound bar. This time he was going to make his brother follow his lead. He cranked out reps, enjoying the feeling of his biceps pumping. Brett just grinned and grabbed the 90 pound barbell as a warm up. He made sure to pump out 5 reps more than his brother. "Time for the real work", Brett stated and grabbed the 150 pound bar. He groaned and his face reddened instantly as he managed 8 reps. He dropped the bar and looked aside with a grin. The grin froze on his face as he saw his brother curling the 170 pound bar. Unlike him, his brother even managed three sets. "What's up next, bro?", Jason asked matter-off-factly. "Hammer curls", Brett said angrily and grabbed a pair of 80 pound dumbbells. After two reps the familiar feeling of fatigue and weakness began spreading in his biceps. At his sixth rep his biceps were burning painfully and he had to drop the weight. Jason shook his head, grabbed the 100 pound dumbbells and began pumping out reps casually. "…3,4,5,6,7,8…", he counted out loud to stress his new strength. He managed 12 nice reps before gently lowering the weight. Brett didn't want to go down without a fight and grabbed the 80 pounders again. This time the painful burning filled his biceps at the first reps. His arms shook, his body trembled as hoisted the dumbbells up. After three lousy reps, his grip gave out and the weights crashed down on the floor. "Watch it, bro. Sam doesn't like weights being thrown down. Show some respect.", Jason said while he began his second set. He once more performed 12 perfectly controlled reps before ending his set. "Next one", Brett said as he racked his dumbbells. "Not done just yet, bro", Jason replied and performed a third and fourth set just to show off his new position. It felt like he was getting more dominant with every rep he did. "Now we're done", he said after his fourth set. "Preacher curls", Brett muttered and stepped over to the machine. He selected a 100 pounds and began pumping out reps. Jason sat down on the adjacent machine, selected 200 pounds and followed his brother's lead. The competition was on and neither one wanted to quit first. After 20 reps, Brett's arms cramped up completely and he had to stop. His body felt completely drained. He looked aside and his eyes widened in disbelief as he saw his brother continuing his grueling set. Jason felt totally energized. His body fed on the energy of his brother that pushed him beyond his limits. "…35,36,37…38…39…40", he groaned and ended his set. The pump in his biceps was unreal. "That was fun, bro. Let's hit triceps now", he said and stood up. "Wh…what?", Brett blurred out in total disbelief. Jason grinned at his brother's reaction. "Sure thing, bro. Biceps are just half the work on arm day", he said and returned to the dumbbells. "Or are ya tired again?", he added. Brett followed his brother but didn't train anymore. He just handed him the weights he demanded. He felt his once dominant position weaken with every rep his brother performed and even handed him his towel when he asked for it. He simply watched After an hour, Jason finally decided that their workout was over. His arms were fully engorged, his biceps and triceps pumped after the torture he had put them through. "Can't even flex from the pump", he said as he looked at his reflection in the mirror. "Fine. Let's hit the shower. And bring my towel, bro", he stated and left. Brett grabbed his brother's towel and followed the guy. He gazed at the defined, hard triceps that jutted out from the back of his meaty arms. "Thanks, bro", Jason said as he grabbed the towel from his brother's hand and ripped his shirt off. "Can't get it over my head. My arms are too pumped", he said as he saw the shocked expression on his brother's face. "When ya train like a real man, ya swill feel this too", he added and strutted into the showers. Brett followed a few minutes later. He entered the shower zone and saw his brother standing in the center of the left wall, his body on full display for everyone. He looked away quickly when his brother made eye contact. He retreated to the furthest shower on the opposite wall and face the wall like the day before. Now and then, he turned his head slightly to peak at his brother. The way his biceps swelled as his brother massaged his hair made a faint 'wow' escape his mouth. He quickly turned his head back to the wall when his brother opened his eyes again. "Time for my shake. Don't make me wait, bro", Jason said while he left. Brett inhaled deeply when he was alone in the shower zone. The second training with his brother had made another deep dent in his once unquestionable dominant position. Deep down he knew he wasn't the alpha anymore but his brain refused to accept the new reality. He turned off the shower, got dressed and went to the bar. He blinked as he saw Sam feeling his brother's left arm. Jason noticed his brother. "Now ya know what a real arms feels like, Sam", he said and gulped down his second protein shake. He got up, winked to Sam and left. Brett wanted to follow his brother but was asked to pay for the shakes again. He did and followed his brother to his car. On the ride home, he took short glances at his brother's arms, watching the corded muscles on his forearms tense as he shifted gears. Back home he rushed into his room and didn't come out until dinner. As it was Christmas the next day, the gym was closed and Brett was relieved not having to join his brother again. At noon the family gathered for their traditional feast. The food was delicious and most of it ended up on Jason's plate. Everyone watched, the parents lovingly and Brett in disbelief, as Jason wolfed down serving after serving. "Ya done, bro?", he asked and took the half serving of meat lying on Brett's plate. When every dish was emptied, he patted his tight six-pack happily. "Gotta feed my body", he said, "Fuelling up for our workout tomorrow. Can't wait for it, bro". "Me too", Brett said unconvincingly. "I'm so glad you two finally share an interest and spent some time together. I'm proud of both of you", their father said. The next morning Brett found his brother once again waiting for him at the breakfast table. Minutes later they were driving toward the gym. As the previous times none of the brothers spoke a word and the tension hanging in the air was like a thunderstorm ready to explode. Both of them knew it would be a decisive moment: Brett was fighting to maintain his former dominance over his brother and Jason was ready to finally claim the top position as alpha of the family. They maintained their silence until they entered the weight room. "Let's smash chest", Jason said. He put on his usual warm up weight and cranked out 20 quick reps. "I'll show ya how it's done, bro", Brett said smugly and cranked out 20 equally fast reps. He knew that his chest was his best muscle group and he wasn't going to step down from the confrontation today. Jason added some weight to the bar and did his first working set of 12 solid reps. Brett followed suit. Jason continued adding weight to the bar after each set. After their third set Brett's chest was beginning to feel fatigued. He'd even one rep less than his brother. "Fourth set", Jason groaned as he pushed up the bar and cranked out another 8 reps. Brett got under the bar, pushed it up and felt his arms shake. He got to 5 reps before his pecs gave out and he re-racked the bar. He stood up, trying to catch his breath and felt his face turn red. "Not so strong after all", Jason said smugly. He added two more plates to the bar and got another solid 7 reps. "Put on some more weight, bro", he said as he laid down on the bar. Brett did as he was told and watched in disbelief as his brother pumped out 5 reps with the heavy bar. It was 30 pounds more than his own max. He felt his once undisputed position slipping away. "Dumbbell presses", Jason said as he stood up from the bench press and wandered over to the free weights. He grabbed the third heaviest pair and began his exercise. Brett followed suit but took a pair of considerably lighter dumbbells. "A bit over trained from football", he mumbled to his brother. Even with the lighter weights he couldn't pump out the reps of his brother. He dropped the weights to the floor and looked in disbelief as his brother grabbed the heaviest dumbbells. "Don't hurt yourself, bro. I never managed that weight", he said. Jason grinned and cranked out 8 solid reps, enjoying the feeling of the pump spreading through his chest. "Too bad they don't have any heavier dumbbells", he grunted as he did three more sets. He sat up, racked the dumbbells and went to the dipping station. "You go first, bro", he said, "ya had time to catch yar breath while I was still dumbbell pressing." Brett grabbed the handles and began dipping. He got 12 nice reps before his arms began shaking. He managed two more reps before jumping down. Jason grabbed the handles and copied his brother's movement. On his twelfth rep, he intentionally made his arms tremble. Then, he continued dipping. Brett's eyes widened as his brother passed the 30 rep point with perfect form. He felt the balance of dominance between them shift with every passing set. "50", Jason groaned and stepped down from the dipping station, "You're up, bro." Brett reluctantly grabbed the handles again. By now his chest felt totally exhausted but he couldn't give up just like that. He only got to 6 reps before his form faltered completely. Jason went through his second set, getting to another solid 40 reps. He stepped down and looked at his brother. Brett simply shook 'no' and pretended to suffer from cramp. His mind on the verge of accepting he had been knocked down by his once lanky brother. Jason blasted through three more sets of 35 dips. He inhaled deeply as he stepped down from the dipping station, his stretched tank top protesting with some tearing sounds as his pumped pecs inflated further. "Pec deck is up next, bro", he said. From that point on Brett simply followed his brother through the gym and watched as he pushed out rep after rep, and feeling him get more dominant with every rep. An hour after they'd arrived, Jason finished his fifth set of pushups and got up. His sweat-drenched tank top was glued to his pumped torso. "Enough for today", he grunted and walked toward the locker room, not even looking at his brother. None of the brothers spoke a word when they began stripping off their workout gear in the locker room. Both of them knowing that the balance of dominance had shifted completely and definitively. Brett's mind was still processing the acceptance of being taken down a notch and Jason was savoring in his new position. "Someone pumped his pecs today." Brett turned around at the remark and saw Sam entering the locker room and admiring his brother's chest. His eyes widened as the guy stepped up to his brother and groped the pumped mass of muscle atop his chest. "Ya like feeling a real chest, don't ya", Jason asked while he let the smaller guy worship his pecs. "Come on. Flex 'em, J.", Sam pleaded. Brett just stared at the unbelievable scene in front of him. Jason grinned and flexed his chest, making striations explode under the smaller guy's touch. "Ya know what to do, Sam", he said casually while he stared right into his brother's eyes. Brett's eyes widened when the smaller guy kneeled, slid down his brother's pants to reveal his plump cock and took it in his mouth. He couldn't believe what was happening right there in the center of the locker room. It was as if he wasn't there for those two guys and his brother kept staring directly into his eyes with a smug expression on his face. Within seconds Jason spilled his load into Sam's eager mouth. When his orgasm wore off, he pulled his cock from the guy's mouth and walked to the shower zone. "Don't ya need a shower, bro?", he asked as he passed his brother. Brett watched Sam stand up and disappear and followed his brother's example. The next morning Brett awoke late. His parents had already left for work and his brother was apparently still in his room as he walked into the bathroom. He ditched his boxers and entered the long walk-in shower. He turned on the shower and enjoyed the hot water cascading down on his body. A grin formed on his face as he thought back at the countless times he'd jerked off against the tilled wall. Lately even his morning wood seemed less hard than at the end of summer. A faint noise caught his attention and he turned off the water. He turned around and a yelp escaped his mouth as he saw his fully nude brother standing at the entrance of the walk-in shower. "What the fuck, Jason", he said angrily while he put his hands in front of his cock. "I asked if ya were done here, little bro", Jason replied grinningly. His deepened baritone easily rivaling his brother's deep voice. Brett didn't react to the 'little bro'. He just stared at his brother's grown body. Standing just a few feet away, his brother looked truly intimidating. Just a few months earlier no one would have told they were brothers: he outsized Jason by a good 60 pounds. Now the tables had turned. Despite being close to his brother's weight, Brett's 212 pounds seemed way less intimidating than Jason's 215 pounds. Brett's muscles seemed a bit saggy: his pecs hung slightly as if their weight pulled them down and his shoulders hunched forward making his posture lack his once usual aura of strength and confidence. Jason on the other hand radiated power: his pecs protruded firmly from his chest and his wide shoulders formed a strong line capped with his rounded delts. His now squared face added to his masculine look. The guy seemed to ooze power and confidence. Jason grinned smugly while his brother scanned his torso. "Miring my bod like after all our workouts in the gym shower, little bro?", he asked casually. Brett tore his gaze from the ripped six-pack and focused on his brother's eyes. He blinked when he realized he had to look up slightly to stare Jason in the eye. "I'm no longer just technically the bigger brother", Jason said, "How big are yar arms?". "18 inches", Brett replied and tensed his right arm to show off his size. "18.5 inches cold", Jason replied. He raised his arms and threw a double bicep pose to emphasize his point. Brett could only stare as his brother displayed his superior form. Ever since their workout the balance of dominance had shifted entirely in favor of his brother and now Brett felt how Jason was imposing his alpha-status completely. "What does half an inch really mean", he muttered unconvincingly. Jason hardened his flex some more in reply to his brother's remark. "We both know what it means, little bro", he groaned and relaxed his pose. "Besides, I'm bigger everywhere", he added. "Huh?", Brett muttered as he pretended not to know what his brother meant. Jason stepped closer while he casually stroked his cock, grabbed his brother's ass and pulled him in. Their hard cocks brushed against each other. "See what I mean, little bro?", he asked. Brett followed his brother's gaze down and inhaled sharply: his brother's cock pressed into his the base below his cock while his own cock lay atop his brother's dick without touching his brother's groin and didn't rival his brother's one in girth either. "See, little bro. Mine's longer and thicker than yours. I'm bigger everywhere!", Jason boomed and savored his new dominant status. His erection jolted underneath his brother's hard dick. Brett broke from his brother's grasp and took a step back. "How did you do it, Jason?", he asked, "you were a runt before I left and now you're…". "The bigger man, ya mean", Jason rumbled, "I cast a curse. When you train, my body gains the size you would have gained. The more ya train, the bigger I get. And ya can't stop training or ya'll lose yar scholarship. So, ya will only make me bigger and bigger, little bro." "Cursed me?", Brett let out, "You're just on steroids. Now get lost so I can shower in peace." "Ya're in no position to tell me what to do, little bro", Jason said, "How many times did ya storm in here when I was showering and told me to leave? Flexing yar arms to intimidate me? Mocking me with yar brawn being superior to me brain? Guess what, little bro: I have brains and brawn now. I'm the new alpha here. Ya should now yar new place." Brett retreated some more, his back pressing against the tilled wall. He had never felt this intimidated before and his once runty brother was doing it to him. He saw his brother come closer and reaching for him. He tried resisting but his weakened body was no match for his now buff brother. Jason easily pushed his brother's arms aside and grabbed his armpits. He turned his brother around and made him face the tilled wall. His 8,5 incher pointed straight at his brother's meaty ass. Brett put his hands against the tilled wall and tried pushing his body away from the wall but his brother held on to his armpits firmly. "Let me go, Jason. you can shower in peace", he mumbled. The words died on his lips as he felt the head of his brother's cock brush against his ass. "No", he mumbled. Jason ignored his brother's cries and shoved his dick into the tight hole. He moaned in pleasure as he busted through the clenched defenses and felt the ass clamp against his cock. "Please….", Brett pleaded in vain. Pain exploded through his body as his brother rammed his cock entirely into his ass. His hands clawed against the tilled walls and a high painful shriek escaped his mouth. "Ya're the little bro now. I'm the new alpha here", Jason moaned, grabbed hold of his brother's hips and began pumping his cock in and out of his brother's clenching ass. Tears leaked from Brett's eyes as his brother installed his total dominance. He felt humiliated beyond anything he'd ever felt. He felt his brother's hot breath against his neck and his brother's deep moans rumbled in his right ear with every thrust of the cock in his ass. His arms trembled and his entire body rocked on the rhythm of his brother's fucking. He looked down and to his horror he noticed that his own cock was at full mast and throbbing. Jason heard his brother's painful shrieks and they only excited him more. He was quickly getting close to orgasm and he felt his balls churning while he ravaged the ass of the brother who had physically dominated the family for years. The slow process of destroying his brother's dominance during their workouts and gradually stripping him of his old alphaness now culminated into fucking him into his new role while he assumed Brett's former position at the top of the family hierarchy. He pulled back his cock almost completely and then rammed it with full force into the clenching ass. "YEAH", he roared loudly as he exploded deep inside his brother. Brett shivered as his brother's spunk filled him with liquid heat and the violence of Jason's orgasm shook his own body violently. He felt spurt after spurt after spurt shoot inside him. At the same time his own cock exploded against the tilled wall. "Ughn", he grunted as his balls blasted out four loads of cum. His own moan drowning in the noise of his brother's deeper moans. Unlike before he didn't feel all-powerful as he came inside the shower, this time he felt nothing but shame. When his blasts stopped, his brother kept squirting his load into him. He felt the sticky juice slide along his legs while his body continued shaking on the rhythm of his brother's thrusts. After eight loads Jason's orgasm finally wore off and he pulled his dick from his brother's ass. "I don't expect to see ya in the gym today, little bro", he grunted and left his humiliated brother in the shower. Brett crashed down, his body destroyed from the fucking by his brother and cried inside the shower that had once made him feel untouchable.
  6. "Are you sure you want to do this?" Raf asked as I stripped. "I have to. I plan to seduce Mesh and get him to forget your agreement." I answered handing Raf my shirt, "And to seduce him, I have to get massive." "You don't have to. I can live with being your slave, Miguel. I can even live with being his as well." Raf said as he folded my clothes, "But I don't know if I can share you with him." "Raf, it's you I love. And it is you I want as my lover and equal." I confided to him, "But there are two things stopping that. The first, you're a slave, I could accept that if it was your choice to be one rather than you being pressured into it. Second, as long as you are pumped up like this, we can't be equals. This would eventually cause problems later because you got to experience the fantasy we both share and I didn't. Besides, there's a part of you that wants to see me big and freaky like you are now." "Okay, I admit it. I want us both to be like this and fuck each other's brains out. But to share you with him when you're all big and freaky..." Raf moaned, "I don't know if I can stand it." "Easy, big fella." I cautioned him, "I promise you that you'll be my first. After that, it'll be like it has been the last few months. We both are free to see and bed other men. Neither of us really happy about it but the jobs require it. And that's what I think of this as. Just know that's it you that is my strength and it's you that I'm going to spent my life with. Just remember that." "Miguelino." Raf whispered as tears steamed down his face. Hearing his love-name for me, I knew then that my lover was back. But now was not the time for this. "Raf, wipe your face." I told him, "It's time for the show. Just hold on to our love and you'll make it. And remember, you're supposed to be my slave." "I'm already that in the most important way. If you have to do this, lets get it over with quick." Raf said as he wiped away the tears. I handed him the cylinder and we walk back across the locker room. As we headed back to the Room, I mentally prepared myself for the biggest sales campaign and con of my life. The door to Room opened and in we went. I just hoped Raf could play his part. Time to brace the dragon. "Alright, Gil, lets get big." I said when approached Mesh. "Yeah, time to get pumped." Mesh responded, "Mike, take your cylinder in there." Mesh pointed to a glass booth with pedestal inside. "Stud Raf." I commanded and held out my hand. Thankfully Raf played his part perfectly. "Your cylinder, Most Worthy Master." Raf said humbly as he handed me the cylinder. With the cylinder in hand, I stepped into the booth. I turned around and waited. Mesh pointed to the pedestal. Raf made a motion as if he putting something into the pedestal. I looked at the pedestal and saw an opening on the top. I put the cylinder into the opening and then looked back to them. Mesh indicated that I should place my hand in the opening on the side and I did so. A few seconds later, I felt an itching all over my hand. The doctor was busy beind his console, tapping away furiously. He reached behind him to flip a few switched on panel. Lights started flashing from the console. The doctor continued to tap away, every now and then he'd throw a switch on the panel behind him. Suddenly, all the lights on the console turned green. I watched all this activity in a nervous swaet. When will it start? What would feel like? Has it already started? I kept asking myself. The itching in my hand had stopped. Was that it? I didn't feel any different. Looking at Mesh and Raf, I saw that they were still waiting. When Mesh looked over to the doctor, Raf gave me a thumbs up. I caught the movement of Mesh's arm swinging down in a deliberate motion. I gasped involuntarily when it hit me. At first, it felt like I had jumped into an icy river but then a syrupy, sweet warmth flowed through my body. It was very erotic. Next was the pins and needles all over me, penetrating me. I could feel every part of my body very intently, feel how totally seductive it was. I didn't know it the time, being lost in the sensations, but the growth hadn't started yet. It announced itself very profoundly and flowed from muscle to muscle. The start felt like a great pump you'd get from working out with total intensity. The muscles all full and tight stretching the skin taut. Then the muscles began flexing hard and relaxing on their own, I couldn't move if I had wanted to and I didn't. An orgasm of pain and pleasure washed through me as each muscle flexed and an euphoric high followed as them relaxed. It went through each muscle rythmically and systematically until every muscle had been flexed and then it would pause and begin again. During the pauses, I caught my breath and began to feel the changes in my body, the increasing strength, the heaviness and fullness of the muscles and the feeling of growing mass and power. It was intoxicating, the world no longer existed outside of me. I don't know how long the process had been going on, seconds, minutes or even hours, when I got the first evidence of kind mass I was gaining. My lats pressed against my arms forcing up and out; my thighs pressed my knees and feet into wider stances; and during the pauses I could see the thick shelf of my pecs without tilting my head down. I could see how this could be addictive, I didn't want it to stop. But all too soon, it stopped. My vision cleared. I could feel the immensity of my body. I could feel the power and strength of my superhuman muscles I could feel the raw sexual and seductive aura ozzing from me. Damn, all these sensations were sending me reeling. I was losing control of myself. I looked about wildly trying to find something to anchor myself. My eyes found Raf's awe-strucked eyes. 'Raf. That's Raf there. Raf's my lover and I'm his. Yes.' I thought, focusing my mind, regaining control. I regained control of my senses. Looking at Raf, I saw he was kneeling and his 18" cock was fully hard, leaking a river of pre-cum. His arms hung loosely on his lats and his face a vision of rapture. Looking over to Mesh, I saw that his cock had ripped through his silk pants. He was still standing and breathing heavily as he stroked his cock. The hunger I saw before burnt fiercely in his eyes now and that hunger was directed at me. I pulled my hand out from the pedestal and looked at it. It looked like it was covered with the measels, tiny red spots all over my hand. Holding my hand up to light, I got a good look at my foearm. Shit! It was almost as big as most guys thighs and had really thick veins snaking across it. I brought up my right arm and found the same freaky muscle mass there as well. 'If my forearms were this big, how big was I?' I wondered. I had an urge to start flexing right there, just to catch a glimpse of this freaky muscled bod of mine. I fought the urge and started out of the booth. That first step sent a wave of orgasmic pleasure through me, the feel of my rolling wide around each other and brushing against each other at the mid-step was incredible. I forced myself to keep moving. It took six orgasmic steps to reach Mesh and Raf. I was half-hard when I stood in front of them. I felt something thick and wet impacting against my huge quads. When I looked down, I saw Raf that was cumming and his hands were at his sides. Then I felt a hard 'thrack' between my massive pecs. My cock was now fully hard and its head, the size of a large grapefruit, rose above the shelf of my pecs. I was about to grab hold of this majestic fuck-scepter when I heard an agonizing groan from Mesh. When I looked, I found that he had popped his cork as well. I had to see myelf. If I could make Raf shoot without touching himself, I had to been hot and huge. I looked around and spotted a mirror off to the side. Over at the mirror, it was my turn to be shocked and awed. I was beyond huge. Looking myself up and down, from the side, and what I could see of my back, I checked out each freaky muscle. Starting with my calves, or rather my bull elephants, out habit. Damn, I could rent them out to the MLB, they seemed to be that mammoth, even the flexors for my feet were massive. Next, my thighs, they had to be six feet arond each. The definition between each muscle must have been an inch deep. I was surprised that my legs didn't tear out of their sockets with each step. My package was breath taking. My cock was about two and half feet long and over a foot think with inch think veins snaking over it. My balls hung halfway to my knees. Each ball looked to be a foot in diameter. From what I could see of my ass, it made me wish I could fuck myself. Checking out my abs, I saw three inch crevices outlining my eight-pack, intercostals, serratus, and obliques. My pecs were mindblowing. Each pec was at least three feet across and over nine inches thick. My pecs were so thick that my nipples didn't point down, they pointed back towards my body. My delts held the impression of being able to topple maountains. Each head had to be six inches thick. My traps rose from my delts and disappeared somewhere near the top of my head. I could live with not being able to look over my shoulder. My arms were being pushed forward and lifted upwards by my mile wide lats. My arms rested at a sixty degree angle from my shoulders. My biceps were mountainous and I haven't even flexed them yet. I was about to start flexing to see how big these bastards could get when Raf placed his hand on my arm. "Miguel, please fuck me now." Raf pleaded, "I need to feel you inside me while you smother me with those wonderful muscles." It had beem over a month since the last time Raf and I had sex so his request sent me into sexual overdrive. Instead of speaking to him, I picked Raf up by his thick lats and pressed him against my hard cock where rode between his pecs and mine. Sliding him up along the length of my cock until our pecs were pressed firmly together, the head of my cock sat between our pecs. With Raf's face level to mine, I kissed him fiercely driving my tongue deep into his throat and he responded after a moment of surprise. I didn't realize unitl a short time later that I was now taller than Raf. I lowered Raf to the floor and soon had him on his back. Raf placed his feet under my pecs as I lowered my cock to line up with his hole. I traced the crack of his ass with my cock which sent shivers through Raf. I teased his hole by pressing the head of cock against it and then moved along his ass, Raf waited until I was pressing against his hole when he tweaked my nipples with his toes. This caused me plunge into Raf. It seemed foreplay was over. So, I began to slide further into Raf then pull back only to slide a little farther in. I continued this process until I was fully buried inside Raf. There, I rested, pressing my full weight on Raf. "OH MY GOD!" Raf panted, "YES! FUCK ME! FUCK ME, HARD!" Never one to disappoint a lover. "You got it, stud." I told him as pull back about a foot and drove into him with my full weight behind it. "YEAH! FUCK THAT ASS!" Raf snarled as I pounded his ass, "RIP ME OPEN WITH GIANT MUSCLECOCK! OH, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, YEAH!" "Fuckin A'! Stud I'm just warmin' up." I grunted. I grabbed Raf's lats and stood up straight. Raf was pulled up into the air with half my cock still buried in his ass. I thrusted up and forward with my hips as I stopped holding Raf in the air. Raf gasped for air as my thrust and the force of gracity combined to drive my cock even deeper into him. Raf grabbed hold of my biceps to steady himself. With just the power of my hips and legs, I began to thrust up and forward continuously. Raf slid up and down a foot on my cock. Raf was panting and rambling as I gave him the fuck of his life. I varied the speed of my thrusts, faster and slower, to make this last as long as possible. Raf came violently, covering our pecs and abs. His ass spasmed around my cock almost causing me to cum as well. I held off but knew I was too close to hold off for long. I began to accelerate my thrusts faster and faster until my cock was burning inside Raf's ass. I couldn't hold off any more, I CAME. Raf was forced upwards for about six inches from the force of me shooting. I continued to shoot for several minutes. As my cock finished shooting, Raf slid down to its base, his whole body limp. I wrapped my arms around him and sank to my knees. Our hearts beating wildly, I laid us both on the floor to recover, my cock still hard and buried in Raf's ass. We remained there for several minutes. "Mighty, fine fucking display." Mesh said, "Can't wait 'til we're alnoe together, my giant stallion." Mesh, damn, I'd forgotten he was here. I raised myself up off Raf and looked over towards Mesh. I was shocked at what I saw. Not only had Mesh stripped out of his clothes and jerked off but Dr. Soong-Yang was standing there holding a video camera hold me and Raf. My first impulse was to rush the doc and smash the camera but that would interfer with my plans, besides I could get the tape later. I lowered myself down a little and whispered into Raf's ear, "It's show time again." I eased out Raf and his ass became a fountain of cum. My sex-crazed mind was clear now and I wondered how much damage I had caused Raf just now. Unfortunately, I counldn't show my concern. There was a job to do and it was time to do it. "Stud Raf, on your feet, NOW!" I commanded hating myself while doing so, "I did not gave you permission to cum." "S-s-s-sorry, M-m-master." Raf replied as stood unsteadily before me. "Too late for that." I growled at him, "Now, go clean yourself, thoroughly, and get back here and clean your mess off me and the floor. You'd best not make me wait too long and you'd better be clean, I shall inspect you thoroughly to be sure. NOW, MOVE!" Raf jumped and left the room. It was just the three of us now. I stood there waiting, silently. I was forcing Mesh to make the first move and commit himself. The doctor was a non-player in this game, all brains and science now, he hadn't even wondered why Mesh didn't use the process to match me. I knew why he didn't and knowing who he was, I knew why he was fixated on me. "You command like an the ancient warrior-kings." said Mesh appraisingly, "Just right touch of hard command mixed with soothing speak." "Self-made businessmen such as yourself and I are the modern day warrior-kings." I replied. "True." He said, "Never before have I met my match." He was trying to seduce me with flattery. As a salesman, I had run into quite a number of people who'd try to sweet talk their way into better deals so this particular track wouldn't work on me. I decided to play along. "I doubt that." I stated, "Certainly, there had to be one but since you are standing here, you must have brought him low." This comment disturbed him but he seemed to take it as an off-hand compliment. Further conversation was stopped as Raf returned. He sort of hobbled as he walked, carrying soap, water, and washclothes. I assumed the flexed 'relaxed' stance I've seen bodybuilders take during competitions. Under my breath, I told Raf to take his time and try to be erotic as possible. The look in eye told me that he was going to enjoy it. Raf soaped up the cloth. He began working on my pecs. After working up a good lather, ran the cloth acorss each pec then in circles around my nipples. He did this for quite some time, long enough to get me really horny again. When my hardening cock brushed against his quads, he began working his way down. But he didn't rush the washing of my abs, taking time to scrub each crevice. As he worked his way down to my crotch, I glanced over at Mesh and saw that our display was having the results I desired. Mesh was getting really hot and bothered. I had to breathe deep as Raf began soaping up my cock and balls. His loving attention brought me back to full hardness. Raf was doing his damnest to get me to shoot again, probably wanted to bathe me. I had to order him to finish the job. Raf rinsed me off, with his back to Mesh he silently asked 'later?' and I gave him a wink. Raf went to work cleaning the floor while I stretched seductively and arched my back. My hard cock remained vertical. Mesh was enthralled while the good doctor kept filming. I turned slowly as if I were looking around just to give Mesh a chance to see the full package. When my back was fully to Mesh, I stopped and made an audible 'um' as if a thought had just occurred to me. It was time for another piece of the plan to come into play. Again I started stretching, pretending to test my flexability to allay his doubts. I continued testing body parts until I got to my waist. There I made my stance wider and bent over pretending to touch my toes. Watching from between my legs, I saw Mesh's eyes bug out and his breathing get heavier. I moved over each leg as if I were totally unaware continuing the stretching routine. I finished stretching and continued to check out my surroundings, still maintaining the pretense. Raf had finished cleaning the floor by the time I got done baiting Mesh. I decided it was time for a show of strength and Raf would be the perfect one to help me demonstrate it. I called Raf over to me, telling him that it time for his inspection. Raf stood before and presented himself for inspection. I grabbed him by the waist and tossed him onto my shoulders then began inspecting his feet. I continued the inspection but instead of having Raf present the part of the body wanted to check, I moved or tossed him around as if he were a small boy until the area I wanted see was in view. Frightened at first, Raf soon began to enjoy this treatment. Then I recalled something I had read in a few stories, I moved Raf around until he sitting in my hands. I slid my right further underneath Raf until his tail bone sat in the palm of my hand. I, then, removed my left hand and began curling Raf with my right arm. Raf got hard at this display of strength and began leaking pre-cum again. I set Raf down after losing count somewhere around fifty. I had to Raf out of the room. "Stud Raf. You are not clean as I ordered." I growled at him, "Return to the showers. Wash yourself again and continue to wash until I get you. NOW, MOVE!" I watched Raf leave the room. He didn't need to see what was going to happen next, it would just hurt him. I turned my attention fully on Mesh. I strutted ove to Mesh, no I was more blatant and exaggerated than that. I flexed my muscles hard with each step, flaring my lats out to their widest point as stepped in front of him. "So, Gil." I said, "See anything you like?" "Everything looks great. Can't wait for the test drive." Mesh replied. Before Mesh could make his move, I made mine. I grabbed him by his arms and lifted him so that we were face-to-face. While Mesh was still surprised, I pressed him against me and kissed hard. It took him a few seconds to respond and respond he did. Mesh was like an animal, kissing me savagely. This was not simple passion or lust, it was two supremely masculine men striving for dominance over the other. We stayed that way for quite a while neither gaining the edge over the other. After what seemed an eternity, we broke apart, Mesh pushing away first. 'Score one for the hero.' I thought. "Damn, if you make me that hot by just kissing then fucking that ass of yours is going to be explosive." Mesh stated. Didn't think he'd roll over and play dead. Mesh still was trying to prove he was the alpha male here. Part one of my plan was working, his animal brain was in control. Time to put salt into the wound and up the ante. "Only if I fuck your ass first." I demanded. "Never! I fuck. I don't get fucked!" Mesh steamed. "Then, great warrior-king, you'll have to conquer me. So, unless I fuck you first, that is the only way you'll get my ass." I told him coldly, "Now, if will excuse me, I've some important matters to take careof." I turn and started walking away from him. Mesh stood there fuming, anger and lust boiled inside of him. He took the bait now to set the hook. "Where do you think you are going?" Mesh demanded in a deadly voice. "I'm going to check on MY slave to make sure he doesn't drown himself. I only bought him today and I would like to get more use out of him than just a single fuck." I said as went through the door leaving Mesh shaking in rage. I waited outside the door for a few moments and when Mesh didn't come storming through, I breathed a sigh of relief. I wanted Mesh hot, bathered and off balance, not a killing frenzy. Fighting for my life isn't what I'd call a successful seduction. Now, it was time to check on Raf. I walked back to the showers and found him lathered up and lovingly stroking himself. I leaned against the wall and admired his new muscled body. Even though I was bigger than Raf now, I still found him incredibly sexy. "Need a hand with that, stud?" I said to him. "What do you have in mind?" He asked breathing heavily. "Quite a number of things actually but we don't have time for all of them right now." I answered, "Do you remember Chet?" Raf and I had met Chet and his boyfriend, Brad, almost a year ago. Chet had a thing for Raf, more specifically Raf's ass. Chet considered himself a macho top, he believed tops only fuck and get sucked and never the other way around. But according to Brad, Chet secretly wanted to be on both sides, giving and receiving. Funny how people screw themselves with how they think things have to be. So, Raf and I basically ambushed Chet. Raf let Chet fuck him while I snuck in and fucked Chet when they were going at it. Chet fought hard at first but he began to enjoy it. After we came and cleaned up, I apologized to Chet for raping him and explained why. Fortunately, he understood and remained our friend. I believed we faced the same thing with Mesh as we did with Chet. That's why I brought up the subject. Unfortunately, with Mesh we were to have a bigger fight on our hands. "So, you're going to fuck Mesh while he fucks me." Raf replied also remembering that time. "No." I said, "You are going to fuck him." "Me?" Raf said in surprise, "Why me?" "Because it's my ass he wants so it has to be you." I replied, "We're going to be breaking several mindsets at once so this is going to be very dangerous. Even pumped up as we are now, we may not be able to finish this." "We can do it. We're bigger and stronger than he is. Plus, once we start, he'll give in." Raf said confidently. "We can only hope but be prepared for him to fight fiercely, anyway." I said. "So, what's the setup?" Raf asked. "Oh, you get to shove this up my ass." I told him as I grabbed his cock, "But, first, are you alright? I forgot how big I am now." "I'm fine." said Raf as he massaged my glutes, "I've been getting fisted for the last two weeks. You're not much bigger than the guy's arm." "Looks like you've got some stories to tell when we have more time." I said as I laid down on my back, "But, for now, fuck me." Raf's answer wasn't in words. Slipped down in between my legs and plunged his face between my cheeks. Raf soon had me squirming as he rimmed my ass with long muscle-tongue. My cock got hard and rested on my granite abs. My cockhead throbbed as nestled in the canyon of my pecs. Then Raf began tonguing my prostrate. It took a moment to realize just how much Raf had changed, his tongue had been long enough nor strong enough to reach my prostrate before. Raf stopped tonguing my ass and raised my legs as he got to his knees. "Ready to have your muscle-ass fucked? Cause here it comes." said Raf as pushed his cockhead into my ass. I had relaxed my ass muscles as much as I could to handle his, now, larger cock. I was surprised when he slipped in easily. I experimented a little and tighten uo my ass muscles a little. "Um, that's better." Raf cooed as I tighten up some more, "I know he's not hung as I am but I was afraid he had fucked you too loose for this to be really enjoyable." "We didn't fuck." I told him as continued give his cock little squeezes with my ass. "What? I thought that was why you sent me out." Raf responded as sank the rest of his cock into my ass. "Nope. I cock teased him and came to you." I said running my hands over his thick muscles, "I left him standing in a rage." "Surprised he come after you." Raf said as he began to slow fuck me. "He will. But lets have some fun before he gets here." I told him as I tweaked his left nipple. Raf gasped and then began to fuck me with long, slow strokes. You don't know what heaven is until you had at least 10 inches of hard throbbing cock rubbing against your prostrate. I pulled Raf's head down to mine and kissed him deeply. Raf kissed me back without missing a stroke. Soon Raf was pistoning in and out of my ass with pleasurable regularity. Just as we were starting to get real hot and heavy, Mesh made his presents known. "So. I have to conquer you but this slave can do you at any time." Mesh ranted, "We'll see about that!" Mesh rushed into the showers with a raging hard-on. He grabbed Raf's left arm and pulled him out of me then threw him back. He quick took Raf's position between my legs and plunged his cock into my ass. He began to fuck me with hard, violent thrusts. "I teach you to deny me. You're going to be my bitch." He ranted on. I saw Raf standing behind Mesh. It was time to hold Mesh down for Raf. I entwined my legs around Mesh's and pulled them wide, at the same I wrapped my arms around his torso and pressed him into my chest. To ensure his staying put, I clamped down hard on his cock with my ass muscles. Raf then did unto Mesh as he had done unto me. Mesh thrashed around like a madman. When he couldn't break free, he screamed out in a long dead language. His body began to vibrate and then his muscles began to grow. I yelled for Raf to hold on to him tight. He continued to grow until he was larger than Raf, his growth stopped shortly thereafter. His size was somewhere Raf and me. Again, he began to thrash about, trying to break free. It took all our combined strength but we held Mesh. I told Raf to start stroking slow. Mesh tried to resist but surrendered when I began sucking on his nipples and massaging his cock with my ass. Soon Mesh was enjoying it as was Raf and myself. I found from the bartender later that the sounds of our little orgy was clearly heard below and started an orgy there as well. Soon we all reached that joyfull and inescapable conclusion and we separated. "To be taken by a mere slave," Mesh moaned, "How can live with this?" "For one thing, Gil. Raf's not a slave, he's a man." I told Mesh, "Raf's my equal and lover, always has been and always will be." "Fine for you, you've got each other. I'm alone as always." Bemoaned Mesh. "You don't have to be." Raf said. "Yes, I do. I don't have an equal or a lover." Mesh responded. "You do, now." I replied. Both Raf and Mesh looked at me questionly. "Raf and I are lovers so in a sense we are one." I explained, "And tooked the two of us to take you so that means we're your equal. So, the three of us are equals." "That makes sense in a weird way." said Raf. "I grant that you are my equals but I am without a lover unless..." Mesh replied. "You guess it, my great warrior-king." I answered. "What?" Raf asked confusedly. "You know who I really am, don't you Mike?" Mesh asked staring at me accusingly. "Yes." I stated simply. "Miguel, who is this guy, anyway." Raf asked. "Raf, may I introduce to you." I said as I bowed grandly, "The great warrior-king, Gilgamesh the Warrior Eternal."
  7. pasidious

    Camjerk 2

    Here is the second part of Camjerk. I hope it's as good as you expect! Please let me know what you think, even if it sucks. Part 1 ______________________________________________ My cock twitched, and I felt a surge of cum shoot into the shaft and launch from the tip into the air, landing on my keyboard, and then more spurts, hitting my face, my shirt, and even more on the keyboard. I shot volley after volley, until it was just dribbling down and onto my hand. I sat there, out of breath, panting, looking at my dick as the remnants of my cum-fest drooled down my hand and my dick. That was a huge load, surprisingly so, after the load I already blew so short of a time ago. I looked back at the screen on my desk, and there he was, the person responsible for my ejaculation. My heart was thumping in my chest. I didn't know how to respond to him. But then it occurred to me that he had the wrong person. He must have me confused with someone else. That's gotta be it. There's no way he's my neighbor. I finally removed my hand from my dick. Everything was a mess, but at this point, I was fully invested in this dude. Nothing would stop me from enjoying this. But what do I say? I wanna see more, and if I tell him he's surely thinking of someone else, he might disappear. But he spoke first. "Dude, you there?" He was simply sitting there now, a concerned look on his face. I didn't like how I couldn't see his entire body anymore, but it was still so hot seeing him from the abs up. His arms were bulging, and he wasn't even flexing. His pecs were jutting out, nipples pointing down, and they had such hot pec cleavage. His abs were clenching as he would lean forward and back in his chair. His obliques were prominent, too. So fucking hot. "Dude?" He called for me again. I looked at his face and he was so cute. He looked worried. I let out a sigh, and I guess I had to say something. Me: i'm here. "Oh okay, you had me worried there for a sec," he said. "Thought maybe you logged off." Me: no i'm here. "Well then don't leave me hangin' dude! How 'bout it? Wanna come over?" He was smiling, and his traps were bulging. I don't know if he was flexing them on purpose, but they were looking pretty big just then. And I felt my dick beginning to plump up again. But I had to come clean. Me: I have to be honest with you, i don't think i am who you think i am, i have no private info in my profile and there's no way you could know who i am. you mustve gotten lucky with my name. It was harder for me to care about my typing and spelling with my hands still covered in jizz. But I'm guessing he didn't mind my less formal style. "No, Mike, I know exactly who you are. I've passed you in the hall a bunch of times and I think you're hot. And uhhh... I hope you don't get mad but... funny thing about ground floor apartments is I can see inside your place. I swear I was just trying to learn more about you to see what you like, and I happened to catch you on this site. Sooo I decided to make my own account and hoped you would join my room." What. The. Fuck. He fucking watched me looking at dudes on this site? Which means he most likely watched me jerk off, too. "Please don't be mad, dude." What the fuck do I say? I mean, I'm definitely putting up better goddamn window treatment, for sure. I looked around and had to make sure no one was watching me this second. I sighed. I looked back at my computer screen and saw his cute face. All the anger I was initially feeling washed away. Well, his cute face AND his big bulging muscles made me rethink my emotions. Me: ok prove to me you know i am who i am. what do i look like? He grinned. "You're about 7 feet tall, have a mullet and a beard, and you like to dance naked listening to Toby Keith." I couldn't help but laugh at the last part. He had to be joking. And then he chuckled. "I'm kidding. You're around 6 feet tall, you have hair kind of like mine... wavy, but a darker brown. Not long, but not exactly short, either. Green eyes. Kind of athletic looking, but hard to tell because you often stay pretty covered up. The few times I've seen you wear shorts your lower legs look pretty thick. You tend to wear button-down shirts, and I believe you were wearing one even today when I saw you earlier." He stopped, keeping that smile on his face. Fuck, though. He was right. And I was wearing a button-down shirt today. Me: how'd you know about the Toby Keith thing? He laughed. "Well, guess I got lucky with that. But dude, was I right about the rest of it?" Me: yeah, i guess you do know who i am "Awesome! So, then, how about it?" Me: i guess this is all a bit too surreal though, i mean how could i believe a dude who can literally grow muscle and get huge would just happen to live in the same building as me AND want to meet me? "Dude you just watched it happen multiple times, and as for seeing how real I am, I guess you'd have to come over to find out." He winked. I pondered the situation for a few seconds. My heart was pounding, in truth. I knew already that I wanted to go meet him, to see how real this all was. Watching him grow in person would be infinitely better than just seeing it on a screen. But I also wanted to have some additional fun, first. Me: alright i think i might just take you up on that offer. but first... I sent that message, and I watched him read it. He sat in that chair, reading his screen, and I was still in awe looking at his muscled body. His round, bulbous shoulders rose and fell as he breathed, his arms bulging at his sides. His triceps really stood out, and it was so hot seeing how much they bulged and how I could see them even from the fronts of his arms. And they still had that vascularity, both arms had a prominent vein running down each that really stood out. "But first what?" he said, but immediately after that there was that telltale "DING" noise. I tipped him again. "Oh fuck, oh fuck..." he pushed himself away from his desk and stood up. His dick was only semi-hard now, but I expected it to grow and harden soon. He grinned. "So you do want me even bigger, huh? Watch." Just hearing him speak now was making my dick harden up again. He stood, arms at his sides, and I watched as his abs clenched. "Ohhh yeah..." he moaned a little. His pecs started to inflate some more, pushing out, growing bigger and bigger. His obliques became even more prominent, really making that V line stand out even more. That V line was so hot. And fuck, his abs. I watched as two new bricks etched themselves out, and he had a perfect 8 pack. He flexed into a double bicep, and I watched his arms rise up into huge boulders. "Watch this," he said. My dick throbbed. He turned around so his back was facing the camera, and holy FUCK. His back was a sight to behold, now covered with muscle. His arms still flexed, I watched them growing and throbbing, pulsing bigger and bigger with each of his heartbeats. "Unnghhhh!" I heard him moan, and his lats were widening more. His wings were flaring, and his V-taper was becoming more and more pronounced. "Oh fuck yeah, this feels so fucking good, dude!" And wow, I've never noticed glutes before, but with his back to me, I could see his ass growing. I could actually see the striations in his ass muscles, and he was even flexing them occasionally. I watched them bulge and contract as they grew. My dick was throbbing so hard, and oozing pre again. AGAIN. His ass was so amazing to look at, and I just wanted so badly to... well, I had to be honest with myself. I wanted to fuck him. "AHH!" My attention snapped back to his growth and I saw him suddenly shoot upward another inch in height. "Oh fuck yeah," he said, softly. FUCK. And his legs were swelling. He dropped his arms and turned back around, and I saw his arms hanging at an unbelievable angle from his body. Those lats were huge, even unflexed. I could now see his quads again as they grew, each head of the muscle clearly defined. His legs were pressing into each other now, and he had to widen his stance. And then... "Ahhhhh" he mostly sighed, and I watched his amazing dick starting to harden. It pulsed bigger and bigger and BIGGER, growing in time with his heartbeats, until it was standing up and hard as a steel pipe. And then it continued growing, thicker and longer. "Fuck yes, I love when my dick grows..." he said. His dick grew at least another two inches longer, and amazingly thick, and it was even beginning to leak pre. He flexed into a most muscular, and even growled a little for me. "Grrrrr!" I didn't even have my hand on my dick, and I came. I exploded. My dick suddenly throbbed harder than I'd ever felt before, and a huge volley of hot white cum shot out and straight up, so high it almost hit the ceiling, but dropped back down and splashed onto my keyboard. And then another shot, hitting my chin. It splattered all over. And then several other shots that continued coating my computer area with my spunk. I relaxed and just let it happen until it was just a slow dribble running out of my tip and down my shaft. He continued flexing on camera the whole time I was cumming, seemingly aware that I had reached my limit of sexual arousal. Or maybe not. I'm guessing flexing is what I'd do, too, if I'd just grown huge muscles, regardless of who was watching or what was going on. I was breathing hard, almost out of breath from my explosion. I could only sit there and watch him flexing those amazing muscles. But then he turned to the camera and walked back to his desk, pulling his chair back behind him and sitting down. Again, his frame took up considerably more space in the video shot than it had before. His shoulders were so wide now they were off the screen. He adjusted the camera upward since he was too tall to stay in the frame after that height increase. "So dude, did you enjoy that?" He said, smiling that smile. His face was even cocky, now. And that made this all that much hotter. Me: what do you think "Sweet! I did too, I love growing so fucking much. I bet you made a mess, huh?" I was becoming overly aware of how much of my spunk was everywhere. I'd probably have to buy a new keyboard altogether. I love how he already knew I loved watching him grow again, and what happened as a result. "So, how about it? You wanna come over?" he asked again. Me: hell yes i wanna come over "FUCK yeah!" he exclaimed. He even pumped his fists into the air. It was cute. It also made his arms flex, which was hot. "I'm on the next floor up in 2C. When can I expect you?" Me: uhhh as much as id like to run to your place right now, i think i ought to clean myself up first. ive made a big mess. give me some time? He laughed a hearty laugh. "Alright alright, but remember I know where you live so you better come over." He flexed his big gun right in front of the camera to emphasize his "threat," and then laughed some more. More of a giggle that time. And god, have I mentioned he was still cute, even as a muscle beast? Me: yeah i know where you live now too ill be there asap "Sweet, dude, can't wait!" He flexed a double bicep one more time, then clicked something with his mouse. The screen went blank and it said "The model is offline." I sighed. My dick was hardening, yet again, as I thought of going to see him for real. Plus that final flex he did before going offline made my heart flutter, too. FUCK! What was I waiting for?! I jumped out of my chair and started removing my clothes. They were covered in jizz. I used my undershirt to wipe off what mess I could from my desk and chair. I'd have to clean it all for real when I could, but I didn't want to waste any more time. I threw my clothes onto the floor near my hamper. I'd have thrown them in, but it just felt strange mixing them with my "normal" dirty clothes. Completely nude, I walked to my bathroom to shower. I didn't want to go see this dude all dirty and sweaty. I turned on the water, waiting for it to heat up. I looked into the mirror, and thought back to what he said about my being "athletic" looking. I guess my own time in the gym has paid off. I had a bit of a chest formed, pecs that were kind of full and pushing out. My arms weren't big or anything, but they were defined. I flexed an arm for myself, and I guess I could admit I had a nice ball of a bicep. And I did have abs, so there was that. Barely a 6 pack, but they were there. I looked down at my calves and remembered how he said I had "pretty thick" lower legs. Yeah, I guess my calves might even be my best muscle, really. I ran a lot, even before starting going to the gym on a more regular basis. I loved how they would bulge when I walked. I always thought big calves were sexy. Steam was permeating the air, and I realized the water was hot already. I flexed for myself once more, thinking about how great it must feel to grow. My dick twitched and started to grow a bit, but I went and adjusted the water temperature so I could shower. I stood in the shower, feeling the water washing over my body. My dick remained in a semi-hard state. My mind was picturing... wait, I never even got his name! Well, whatever his name is, I kept picturing and replaying in my mind the times that he grew on my computer screen. I had to keep refocusing on the task at hand; showering quickly. My dick kept twitching and pulsing, wanting to grow hard, and then I'd be tempted to jerk off again. No time for that. I washed all the jizz off my body, and made sure to shampoo my hair really well. I'm sure I got some cum there, too. And then the image of him when he was still skinny as a rail popped into my head. Watching him throw his head back as his shoulders broadened for the first time, and flexing his skinny arm and watching his bicep take form and swell. FUCK my dick was growing fast. Soon it was standing straight up. I shuddered, and kept my hands away from my dick as I rinsed off the remaining soap from my body. I hopped out of the shower, my dick bouncing as I did, and toweled off. I needed to get moving. I didn't want my "date", for lack of a better term right now, to be kept waiting. I went to my bedroom and quickly got dressed, pulling on a simple black T-shirt and cargo shorts. I went back to the bathroom and fixed my hair so it wasn't all over the place, and I couldn't help but notice that I did look pretty athletic. My shirt was hugging my body quite nicely. I never bothered to really check myself out, but my "date" made me start thinking about it when he said I looked athletic. I was actually really happy that the gym was doing me some good. I put my shoes on and left my apartment, being sure to lock the door behind me. I headed up the stairs, and then made my way to the end of the hallway where 2C was. My heart was thudding in my chest, pounding faster and faster as I approached the door. I wasn't sure what to expect. I mean, I had an image in my mind of what would be standing in the doorway when the door was opened, but this all seemed too surreal, like I was dreaming. I was so nervous. I took a deep breath, and knocked on the door. I couldn't believe what I saw when the door opened. It was him. But, it was... pre-transformation him. He was shorter than me, maybe around 5'9", and he was super skinny. "Hey," he greeted me, smiling. He was fully clothed again, wearing a black T-shirt, like mine, and another pair of red gym shorts. My mouth had to have been hanging open. I was expecting the muscle-bound guy who I saw on the Camjerk website! "Come in, dude!" he said as he stepped aside. I tentatively stepped forward, entering his apartment. His place was similarly laid out. The kitchen area was just inside the doorway, and beyond was the living room area. To the left was a short hallway that led to the bedroom and bathroom. His place was pretty clean for a guy so young. I mean, I wasn't much older, but usually 21 year-olds aren't so focused on cleanliness. "I, uhhh, suppose you might be wondering why I'm this size again." I nodded. "Funny thing about my ability is when the source is cut off, I begin to shrink back to this size. Which is okay! I love to experience it over and over again." He grinned at me. That face... up close, and real... it was even cuter. He was so attractive. I felt my dick twitch. I started to wonder what his plan was, if he had one at all. Was he going to grow again for me? Was he going to have me on cam with him while he got tips from other people? I realized just then that I was making this awkward. I hadn't even said anything to him yet. "Yeah! I mean... I'm sure it does feel great. To grow, I mean," I finally blurted out. I was stuttering. "I'm Zach, by the way. I realized earlier that I never told you my name. Come on, let's go sit. Want anything to drink?" he asked. "Nah, man, I'm okay for now." "You sure? I've got beer, now that I'm old enough to buy it," he chuckled. I smiled, and laughed a little with him. "No, man, I'm good. For now, anyway." He gestured towards the sofa in the living room. It was pointed at a surprisingly large TV that was mounted on the wall. We both walked over to it, and he sat down. I sat down next to him, and we both didn't say anything for a few seconds. I didn't know what to say, really. I just stared at the blank TV screen as though there was something on. I had to say something, though. This felt too awkward, and I wanted to see where things went. "So, what's the plan?" I asked. He giggled. "I don't know, dude. I wasn't even sure you'd come over, to be honest. But, uhhh, I just wanna finally say it in person. You're hot." He blushed just then, his face turning bright red. I chuckled a little. "You know I think you're hot already. I came like, three times watching you on cam. Made a mess of everything. Didn't even touch myself for at least one of those times. And you're super cute." I felt the blood rush to my face and knew I was turning red as well. He grinned. "So, I have to ask, are you gonna try to grow again?" He smiled a mischievous, almost evil smile. "Of course, dude. Like I said before, I wanna see how much fun we can have without computers separating us." "Well, then, do you wanna go to your computer so you can get back on cam?" "Oh no, dude, that's just one way. A tip is like appreciation, right? So, there's other ways I can feel... appreciated." The smile that followed that statement was definitely evil. I felt my dick stir. He then said, "Have I mentioned yet that you look really hot? I've never seen you wear such a tight shirt before. Nice pecs." He nodded towards my chest, and I guess my chest was pushing it out a bit. And then he put his hand on my leg, and slowly slid it down toward my knee. Oh god, my dick was definitely growing and pulsing now. I leaned toward him, and he toward me, and we kissed for the first time. It was a soft kiss, light, but it felt so nice. My dick responded with a throb, and butterflies entered my stomach. We smiled at each other. "Ready?" he asked. Fuck. I wasn't sure I'd be able to keep from cumming too soon. "H-how are you gonna do it?" I asked in response. "Just play along, and you'll see," he said, almost in a whisper. "You're already hard," he said, definitely in a whisper that time. He nodded toward my crotch. He lightly brushed his hand over it, and it made me shudder. He took his hand away, and flexed his skinny arms. There was barely a mound rising up on each. It was almost something you'd expect to see as a joke, and I felt ashamed for even thinking that. "Feel them, Mike," he said, still whispering. He said to play along, and my heart was pounding. I reached my hands over, and placed them on his biceps... or what would usually be considered biceps, had there been any there. I rubbed them, squeezed a little, and let my fingers slide along the length of his arms. "Now feel my chest," he commanded, a little louder this time. I put my hands on his flat chest, and felt it through his shirt. I let my hands run from one side to the other, and even ran them down to his stomach. His abs weren't there anymore, but his stomach wasn't exactly soft, either. My hands ran back up his torso, and I let them graze his shoulders. Then up to his traps and neck. "Oh fuck, oh fuck... yeah, this feels amazing, dude. I'm picturing it, what it'd be like if I was bigger, and you feeling me up, and I can feel it. Oh fuck, it's happening... unnghhh." And holy fuck. He threw his head back, like he did when he first grew on Camjerk, and I saw it happening again. For real. His shoulders were widening, growing, rounding out. They were getting bigger. And his traps were slowly taking shape, rising up slightly, swelling. I saw some movement under his shirt, and his chest was beginning to push out. Two mounds were slowly taking shape under the fabric, and I could feel my dick throbbing in response. FUCK! He raised his head again, looking at me, smirking. "This feels even better than before, dude." He straightened his arms out, and started flexing them again. This time, though, his biceps were taking shape. He flexed, and then unflexed, then flexed again. Each time, his biceps bulged up bigger than before. "Fuck yeah, oh yeah," he'd grunt with each flex. He squeezed out one final flex with his arms, and they stopped swelling. "Oh god, dude, that felt so good." My dick was throbbing so hard in my shorts, and I could feel the wetness of pre leaking into the fabric. FUCK I didn't want to cum so soon, but I didn't know if I could take much more. I didn't want to soil my clean shorts already, although the pre was already kind of doing that. He kept his arms flexed, and they were already pretty hot. Nicely shaped, bulging up, and I could already see those veins from before. But then he took his right hand and placed it under my chin, and pulled my face to his and kissed me. Hard. "Mmmmf" I gasped with his mouth on mine. His tongue entered, and I attempted to wrestle it with my own. I felt his hand running up my leg, and I mean up, not down like last time, and I shuddered. If he touched my dick, I'd probably cum. Luckily he pulled away, and broke the kiss. "You ready for more?" he asked, somewhat cockily. "Dude, I don't know if I can keep from cumming..." I bashfully responded. He glanced at the tent I was pitching, and smirked. "Duh, dude. That's the point. If I'm not making you cum, then I'm not doing my job. And, uh, I'll tell you now, it helps." And then he grabbed my wrists with his hands and placed them on his newly formed pec muscles. "Ohhh yes..." he breathed. I took the hint and let my hands press and feel his now harder chest, and let my hands roam over his newly formed muscles. I made my way to his arms, and they felt way better than before. They were harder, and felt muscly. I moved my hands to his legs and prodded them through his shorts, and they too were more muscled. I heard him gasp. "Shit, dude, I can feel it coming again. Oh god, yeah, here it comes, it's happening!" He closed his eyes, and his mouth was hanging open as the sensation washed over him. God it even looked like it felt good. My dick was oozing pre, throbbing, and my shorts were getting wetter and wetter. And then I saw it happening. He was swelling all over. His shoulders were growing bigger, wider, and I could see his traps rising up again. This time they became more pronounced, pushing the collar of his T-shirt up. His chest was pushing out of his shirt, creating definite outlines in the fabric. His eyes snapped open, and he grinned. "Fuck yeah, dude, I wanna grow so big for you," he said, and I felt my dick spasm. I was so close to exploding into my shorts. I could feel it. And then I saw his lats taking form again, pushing out against the sides of his shirt. He lifted the bottom of his shirt and his abs were taking shape again, getting back some definition. And his legs, I saw them pushing up against his shorts as he sat there. Then, he flexed his arms. They bulged, bigger than seconds before, pushing up into the fabric, filling the space that was left in the sleeves of his shirt until they tightened. He straightened his arms and flexed again, grunting, and the sleeves were even tighter, digging into his skin. I felt the pressure in my crotch reach its peak as he flexed his arms, and I felt the sharp sensation of an ejaculation erupting from my balls and into the shaft of my cock, shooting through its length and out of the tip. "FUCK!" I yelled, as I felt shot after shot of cum shooting into my shorts, a hot wet sensation expanding throughout. "Oh fuck," I said again. I shuddered, and I heard Zach chuckle. I looked over at him, and he had an evil glint in his eyes, and a smirk on his face. "Dude, you just came for me, and--oh fuck--this is about to get--ungghh--really fun!" His neck thickened and his voice deepened a little. His traps swelled upward again. He stood up from the sofa and planted himself in front of me, and I caught a glimpse of his calves swelling and bulging. He caught my gaze and said "It's only just beginning," and flashed that smile again. "Unnghhfuck" he moaned, and he started growing. His chest was really swelling fast, pushing out, pressing into the fabric of his shirt, causing stress lines to form. His shoulders were broadening again, growing bigger and bigger, and his sleeves were riding up his arms. What little space left in his sleeves was gone, and now even unflexed, his arms completely filled them. And fuck, his legs were pressing into his shorts, now. Once again, he looked like a junior bodybuilder, and was still growing. And then I felt my dick starting to harden again. Jesus, I wonder how much I could cum in one day? My balls were producing cum just for Zach. "Ohh yeah, I love this part, don't you?" My attention was brought back to Zach when he spoke, and I quickly realized what he was going to do. He had his arms raised, and I was excited to see it happen. "Unghh" he grunted suddenly, and he grew upward by maybe an inch, surprising even him. Small tears could be heard as his shirt was giving up the fight to contain his torso. "No fair! I'm flexing out of this shirt!" he exclaimed, and I guess I had to agree, it's hotter to see him flex out of a shirt. My dick agreed with a throb. He raised his arms up, and then BAM! Flexed into a mind-blowing double-bicep, his arms exploded with size, and the enormous sound of tearing cloth resounded through the apartment. RRIIIIIIP!!! The sleeves exploded, ripping all the way to the collar of his shirt, the sleeves reduced literally just to shreds. "FUCK YEAH!" he exclaimed. He took the remains of his shirt and ripped the rest from his body, leaving his torso bare. "Fuck that shirt, dude. I want you to see these muscles!" "OH fuck, Zach..." I gasped, my dick throbbing, pitching a huge tent in my shorts. "Yeah, dude. Fuck yeah. Getting fucking huge, right?" I nodded rapidly, feeling pre leaking from my dick again into my already soggy shorts. He grinned, but shook his head. "No, no I'm not. This is small. You wanna see me get huge? Come on, we're not behind keyboards anymore. Make me huge, dude!" He bent down and flexed his arm in my face. The bicep bulged up, huge, with a large vein running its length. I felt my inhibitions disappear with that muscle bulging in my face, and I moved my face closer and gave it a kiss. I kissed his bicep, and then sucked a little on the peak. I licked it, and then ran my tongue all around it. I heard Zach chuckle a bit, which then turned into a small moan. "Ummff..." I stood up, grasping his arm with my hands, and stood face to face with him. He kept his arm flexed, and I squeezed it with my left hand. But then I took my right hand and started rubbing him all over, starting with his pecs. I poked the now larger muscles, feeling the rocks they'd become. So fucking hard. I ran my hand to his abs, and traced my finger along the crevices between the bricks, and I could feel them clenching with his breaths. My hand wandered back up to his lats, and then to his back, where a vicious terrain of muscle had developed. My left hand never left his hot bicep, the muscle pulsing under it. My right hand wandered up to his traps, and fuck, they felt so amazing. I loved traps, and I knew Zach did, too. "Oh god, yesssss..." Zach breathed. And then I bent my knees and put my face near his chest, and ran my tongue up his pec cleavage. "Oh fuck, dude, FUCK!" I could feel Zach shudder beneath my hands, and I knew I had to be doing amazing things, priming him for an epic growth spurt. I brought my hands down, both of them, and put them on his ass. His glutes had grown a little, and I squeezed each cheek. I felt him flex, and my dick throbbed, squirting more pre into my shorts. "Oh god, yeah, fuck yeah, bro it's coming, get ready... watch me, look at what--unnghh--you've done to me...." I stepped back, and got a good look at him as he stood there. His mouth was hanging open again, almost like he was moaning with no sound. His arms were hanging at his sides, and I noticed his triceps were bulging. I saw his chest heaving from his heavy breathing, and then I saw something else. His chest was growing. His pecs were ballooning outward, swelling, as his nipples pointed more and more downward. And then I saw his traps rising up towards his ears as his shoulders broadened even more. "Ohhhhh yeahhhh this feels so good!" he moaned. He started to flex his chest, bouncing his pecs. His abs were developing further, becoming more and more defined, and it was definitely an 8-pack again. Watching his abs clenching with his breathing and movement was so fucking hot. And his obliques were becoming more defined as well, making that V-line really stand out, and fuck, who doesn't find a V-line sexy? But then I heard a soft rip. I looked toward the source, and I realized his legs were growing, too. His quads had gotten so big his shorts looked painted on, and then I heard another rip. "Fuuuuck..." Zach whispered. "Gonna flex, dude, make these shorts disappear..." he whispered again. And then he did it. He flexed his quads as hard as he could, and his shorts exploded all the way up to the waistband, his legs bulging with pure muscle, huge defined quads exposed to the air. His shorts were just flaps of cloth hanging from an elastic band around his waist. And his legs were still growing. He then took a moment to flex his calves, and they too were growing bigger and bigger. But then I noticed his arms. They were being pushed farther away from his body by his growing, swelling lats. And what lats they were! FUCK! They were becoming wings, and his arms were growing, too! He flexed his right arm, looking at it lustfully. It exploded with size, peaking high into the air, veins wrapping all around. He flexed his other arm, and it was even bigger. He was beyond bodybuilder big, now, and I felt a strong compulsion envelop me. I stepped forward, pressing my body into him. My hard dick pressed against his abs, and I wrapped my arms around him, feeling his back muscles. I placed my hands on his ass feeling the insanely hard muscle. I squeezed like I did before, and his ass was rock hard. FUCK! I was grinding my dick into his body, and I felt the cum welling up from my balls as an imminent ejaculation was developing. And then my dick exploded, shooting more cum into my already wet shorts, and I continued pressing my dick into his hard body. Shot after shot of cum squirted into my shorts, and I moaned. Zach chuckled. "I love how much you're enjoying this," he said. He flexed his arms, and I reached up and felt them. "You just came again, and--fuck--I can feel it coming." Butterflies entered my stomach again as I realized he was going to grow more. "Ahhh! AHH!" he yelled, as he shot up several inches in height, soon towering over me. His body was expanding in every direction now, growing more and more, packing pounds of muscle onto his frame. "Oh god, this is bigger than I've ever gotten before!" His height was continuing to increase, and his muscles continued growing. The waistband of his shorts snapped off, and the remains fluttered to the floor, and he now stood completely nude. He turned around, and flexed his biceps, making his back bulge, and his ass was phenomenal. His glutes were so muscled and big, and I realized now that I wanted nothing more than to stick my dick into his ass. I dropped my shorts, finally freeing myself of the mess I was wearing. My dick sprang out, hard again already. Or maybe I never went soft. It's hard to be soft around this much muscle. Zach had to be around 6'5" now, and considerably taller than me. And definitely more muscular. But he stood there, flexing his biceps, with his back to me. He then straightened his arms and finally flexed his triceps, and holy shit, they were amazing. His triceps were perfect horseshoes, and absolutely humongous. And yes, from behind, his traps were really evidently huge. He almost looked like he had no neck. But, he kept his back to me. I could hear my own breathing as I looked at him and lusted after his body. My eyes drifted back to his ass, and I could see striations in his glutes, and I felt my dick throb. I stepped forward, and pressed the head of my dick into his crack. He gasped. "There's the fuckin' tip I want, dude," he said, gasping again, as I pressed harder. "But I need more than just the tip. Give me all of it." I didn't hesitate, and pressed myself all the way into him, and it felt amazing. It felt like we were two puzzle pieces meant to fit together. His hole was so hot, and I could feel his muscles clenching around me like a loving caress. I started fucking him from behind, ramming myself into him. The waves of pleasure radiating around my body were like nothing I've ever felt, and Zach started grunting and moaning. "Oh fuck, dude, yeah, fuck me, unghhhh," he moaned. "This is--oh fuck--the biggest tip I've ever--nnnggggg--gotten!" And then I saw it. Every time I thrusted into him, he grew and bulged all over. Another thrust, and his muscles swelled. And then again, only this time his height increased more. I was already getting close to cumming, and I increased the fervor of my fucking. More and more I fucked him, and he continued getting bigger and bigger, grunting with each thrust. I felt the unmistakable pressure building up in my crotch, and I knew I was gonna cum. "Fuck, Zach, I'm gonna cum!" "Do it, dude. Fucking cum in me," Zach breathed, his massive body heaving. And that was it. He clenched around my dick once more, and I felt the explosion take place that launched cum through my shaft and into his ass. I continued thrusting into him, feeling shot after shot of cum leaving the tip of my dick. And fuck, it was a lot. I noticed there was even some dribbling out of his hole. I've never cum this much before at once, much less in an entire day. My dick was wild for Zach. "NNghhhhhaaahhhhh!" Zach moaned loudly, and from behind him I saw his own cum launching into the air as he shot his huge load all over the room, hitting the walls, furniture, even the ceiling. He had to be over 7 feet tall, much taller than me now. But then I heard a familiar noise. A "DING" sound. I heard Zach chuckle. I looked around, and saw a red light. It was attached to a fucking camera! I looked at Zach, who'd turned around to face me. "Zach, what the fuck..." I started, but he spoke over me. "Mike, dude, that tip was for you." And then I felt my entire body throb, and immense pleasure surged through my limbs. I was growing.
  8. arpeejay

    The Merger

    This is a one shot, single-chapter standalone. There will be no follow up. And not quite my usual fare. Hope you enjoy! -- RPJ By Richard Jasper They met at the Eagle. Derik “Rik” Farnsworth was in his usual attire: Tight white v-neck shirt that showed off his broad shoulders, bespoke leather vest that didn’t do much to hide his middle-aged belly, and tight black jeans that showed both a nice basket (but left ‘em guessing as to what was really there) and a nice hard butt. At 5’10 and 225 lbs., Rik, 52, was a beefy daddy / wannabe muscle bear. Big shoulders, big pecs, beefy arms and legs, killer calves and a 38-inch waist that never wanted to go away no matter how much cardio he did. He had slightly wavy sandy brownish blond hair, a full goatee, and short, curly strawberry blond hair all over his body. Ryan Steinmetz, 25, was wearing a vintage Mickey Mouse polo shirt, coral-colored Calvin Klein draw-string shots, and classic black Converse PF Flyers. Also, 5’10, Ryan had what Rik had had when he was that age: broad shoulders, nice arms, good pecs, decent legs. Unlike Rik, he had a 31-inch waist with a nice six-pack going. Plus vaguely floppy dark brown hair, green eyes, nice, thick eyebrows, pouty red lips, and a short, well-kept beard with reddish highlights. And except for his pits and legs, smooth as silk. They gave each other the eye and then promptly looked the other way, Rik figuring he was too old for the young stud, the young stud figuring the (from his point of view) “fucking hot DILF” was out of his league. And then there was Pete. It was Pete in fact who introduced them. At 45, he was a scaled down, slightly chubbier version of Rik. For the past month Ryan had been his live-in lover and years before Pete had been Rik’s summer-long fling. Oh, no, Rik thought as he was shaking Ryan’s hand. The poor kid. You’d think in a metro area with 2 million people every gay man wouldn’t know every other gay man’s business but not so. Rik had seen it too many times. Pete found one young stud after another, moved in on them by playing up his house and his travel schedule and procession of brand new Porsches (he was a car salesman, big whoop), and as soon as they took the bait he started in on them, systematically destroying their self-confidence in his belittling, gaslighting, self-important way. Rik hated to think what Pete must have gone through as a child to turn into such a complete and utter douche but whatever it was didn’t excuse his petty cruelty. Rik gave Ryan a firm handshake and a crooked smile and, when Pete wasn’t looking, slipped his social media card into Ryan’s back pocket. “In case you ever want to, you know, just hang,” he said. “I’m well-aware that I’m old enough to be your daddy. But Pete, well, he can be pretty intense sometimes, y’know? Let me know if you need a breather.” Ryan gave Rik a puzzled look, then nodded. +++ The next day Rik was at Fitness World working shoulders when he looked up and there he was. “Hey, hey, hey,” Rik said, re-racking the 40 lb. dumbbells. “Look who’s here! It’s Ryan, right?” Ryan actually blushed when Rik called his name. Aww, Rik though, ain’t that just fucking adorable? That asshole Pete sure knows how to pick ‘em! “It’s Rik, right?” Ryan asked. “I had no idea you trained here.” Rik nodded. “About a year now,” he said. “I really hate training by myself and they have great trainers here. I was at Flex Complex before but my trainer, Dan Hardy, ran off to Cincinnati to get married and I was stuck.” Dan was the 2017 Mr. Hoosier and Ryan instantly recognized his name. “Oh, wow,” he said. “You got to work with Dan? How cool is that?” They spent the next 15 minutes talking about bodybuilding and related sports. Turns out Ryan had aspirations to compete in Men’s Physique. Rik had ZERO competitive aspirations but he had been following bodybuilding since he was a sprout and his knowledge was approaching encyclopedic! They wound up training together that day, much to their mutual surprise, and found out that despite the difference in their ages they weren’t all that far apart in strength. “I’m twice your age,” Rik observed, sighing. “But you outweigh me by 50 lbs.,” Ryan countered. “I’m an old man,” Rik protested. “That’s call ‘muscle maturity,’ dumbass,” Ryan pointed out. They made a training date for the next day. And the day after that. And… On chest day, Rik had a confession to make. “I have a lousy bench,” he said. “I’ve been lifting longer than you’ve been alive and the most I’ve ever put up for one rep was 275.” Ryan rolled his eyes. “C’mon, dude, give yourself a break,” he said, adding. “That’s the most I’ve ever put up, too! And I don’t have 18-inch calves or a 455 lb. squat.” Rik considered it. “Fair enough,” he said. “You know what this means, right?” Ryan looked at him. “That we need to work on hitting 315?” Rik bumped his fist. “Damn straight!” And a month later they did. Things went on like that for six months. They both gained 10 lbs., all in the right places but Ryan’s calves still lagged and Rik’s waist was still stuck at 38 inches, no change. “On the other hand, Mr. 52-inch-chest,” Ryan said to Rik. “Your delts are so huge they’re going to have to widen the doors. And I don’t want to hear any more whining about your ‘little’ arms. Little 18 ½-inch arms!” Rik snorted. “Uh, look who’s talking, Mr. 18-inch-arms and you’re only 185 fucking pounds,” he replied. “With a 29-inch waist and a fucking eight-pack already.” They stood side by side, the middle-aged bear who was more muscular every day and the 25 y.o. stud whose hotness was setting off fire alarms. “You know what we would be great?” Ryan said. “What’s that?” Rik responded. “If we could, you know, MERGE our bodies,” Ryan continued. Rik guffawed. “You mean my mass and your leanness?” Ryan punched his lifting buddy’s full, thick, rock-hard delts. “Your shoulders and my abs,” he said. “My calves and your veinage,” Rik countered. They smiled at each other. “Knowing me,” Rik continued, in his po-faced way. “We’d end up with my gut and your calves.” Ryan just rolled his eyes. “Finish up with single-armed cable curls?” Rik’s eyes gleamed. “You betcha!” +++ Ryan didn’t show up the next day. Or the day after that. No texts, no e-mail, no phone calls. Rik fought down his urge to panic (or to get pissed) off and sent one last text: I know I’m not your dad or anything but you’re my friend and I do worry. Please let me know that you’re OK. A minute later: Sorry. Dealing with some shit. I’ll be fine. See you tomorrow morning. When he saw Ryan the next morning, he gave him an arched “what the fuck is going on?” eyebrow. “Not right here,” Ryan responded, nodding towards the corner of the gym. Rik dutifully followed him over and started loading the t-bar row. “Pete dumped me,” Ryan said, without further ado. “Kicked me out in fact. Said, well, I don’t want to get into what he said. It was all shit. I spent Wednesday and Thursday finding an apartment and getting my stuff moved.” Rik sighed. “Oh, man, I was afraid it was something like that,” he said. “Except that we’re out here in the middle of the gym, I would give you a big hug.” Ryan nodded. “If we were not here in the middle of the gym, I would let you,” he replied. “But if I did I would start crying.” Rik felt like crying, too. Ryan was just about the nicest guy he’d ever met. He didn’t deserve to have Pete crap all over his life. Pete is such a fucking asshole, he thought. “Pete is such a fucking asshole,” Ryan said. “I hate to say it but it’s true.” Rik patted his young friend on the shoulder. “I would have told you that six months ago, but you needed to figure it out for yourself.” Ryan shook his head. “I figured it out a while ago, actually,” he continued. “I just hadn’t decided what to do about it. Actually, I’m really lucky that he ended it when he did.” This kid is so fucking smart, Rik thought, but it wasn’t what he said. “This evening, if you’re free, cocktails and dinner on me.” Ryan’s eyes lit up. “To celebrate, you mean?” Rik laughed. “Yes, to celebrate,” he said. “It’s a little too early for you to start going on dates!” Ryan looked down and murmured something – something Rik didn’t catch – under his breath. Rik picked Ryan up at his new place and took him to Ferguson’s, the local steak house with its own quite comprehensive wine cellar. And then had a couple of glasses of wine too many and on the spot hired one of the valet parkers to drive them and Rik’s car back to Ryan’s place and called Uber to send the parker back to Ferguson’s. “Come on up,” Ryan said. “I’ll show you the place.” The place was largish studio with a bedroom alcove. A bunch of boxes on the kitchen counter, a new futon sofa, and a queen-sized bed in the bedroom alcove were all he had, along with various lamps sitting on the floor. “I think it’s time you gave me that hug,” Ryan said, leaning against the kitchen counter. Rik gathered the younger man up in his arms and gave him a good bear hug. “No, a real hug,” Ryan said, when Rik tried to let go. He nuzzled his handsome head against Rik’s neck. Holy moly, Rik thought. “Bud, are you sure this is a good idea?” he squeaked. Ryan nipped his earlobe. “I’m pretty sure it’s a bad idea,” he replied. “But it’s what I’ve wanted since I laid eyes on you and judging by this I would saying the feeling is mutual.” It was mutual. Rik decided he didn’t have to be the grown up all the time. +++ They spent a lot of time exploring, as bedmates who are friends before they get into bed often do. Soon after they’d started training together they’d noticed that not only were they the same height, they wore the same shoe size and their hands were more or less the same size and shape. Turns out, perhaps unsurprisingly, their dicks were, too. Ryan’s was maybe half an inch longer, Rik’s was possibly an inch bigger around. They weren’t shy about sharing their muscle fetish. Rik straddled Ryan’s hips, squared his big broad shoulders, threw out his big thick chest, and flared his ridiculous lats before sweeping in to nuzzle Ryan’s neck, lick out his pits, and chew on his pierced nips. Ryan bounced his pecs, scrunched his rock-hard eight-pack abs down into a vacuum, pose, and licked his 18-inch biceps. “You are such a hot fucking stud,” Rik breathed. “Look who’s talking, Big Daddy,” Ryan replied. They came all over each other simultaneously, having never gotten around to fucking. And then they fell fast asleep. +++ Roger lazily opened his eyes, hopped out of bed, and padded to the bathroom, his extra-wide, ridiculously muscular size 16 feet thumping the ceramic tile. His ridiculous dong, 10 inches soft, let loose a noisy waterfall of piss that seemed to go on for five minutes. Must have had too much wine last night, he thought. Then he looked at himself in the mirror. “Mighty fine, Big Man, mighty fine,” he said. The six-foot mountain of muscle enjoyed looking at the dark brown, nearly black, fur covering his monstrous pecs and the way those pecs bounced every time he moved. Why couldn’t that asshole Pete appreciate me for who I am? He scratched the sexy reddish brown morning stubble that would be a five o’clock shadow by 4 p.m. and looked himself in the eye: they were a blue so dark they might have been sapphires. Oh, well, Ferguson’s was good. Hope that cute parker made it home OK! And then he stood stock still in front of the mirror. “I’m Roger Grosbeck,” he said to his reflection. I’m Rik Farnsworth. “I’m 6 feet tall.” I’m Ryan Steinmetz. I’m 5’10. “I weigh 420 lbs. of solid muscle. I’m the biggest, builtest motherfucker anyone’s ever seen.” I weigh 235 lbs. and I don’t have abs. I weigh 185 lbs. and I don’t have calves worth shit. “I have a 13-inch dick.” Six inches. Seven inches. “I’m 37 years old.” 52. 25. “Furry as fuck.” Smooth as silk. “Five % body fat.” We have abs! “So what the hell is going on?” And then he remembered. Growing up in Northwest Florida. Growing up in Northwest Indiana. Having two younger brothers. No, having an older sister. Having an asshole, alcoholic father. Having a laidback, loving rocker dad into Jerry Garcia and the sacred herb. “I….” I’m not complaining, Rik thought. Nor am I, Ryan offered. “…am something more.” Than I was. Than we were. “Are we OK with this?” Roger asked himselves. We are. I am you. You are me. We are one. “In that case, now what?” Simple. Easy. “We fucking rule the world.” THE END
  9. arpeejay

    The Haircut

    As usual, enter at your own risk. If you’ve read one of my stories, you’ve read them all, including this new one. – RPJ The Haircut Part 1 By Richard Jasper “I need something new,” the kid said. Well, I couldn’t disagree with him. Cute enough, sure, in that gay geek sort of way, mid-20s, about 6 ft., maybe a buck sixty soaking wet, dark blue eyes with long, thick lashes. A great face, in fact. But the hair was right out of the Bill Gates playbook, circa 1989, as were the glasses. “Lots of options,” I pointed out. “But what did you mind?” He tilted his head to the right, tilted it to the left. “Something up-to-date,” he said. “But it can’t be too out there. Work, ya know?” Oh, yeah, I thought, I know all about work. “Leave it to me,” I replied. And I worked my magic, on his head and on him. The nice thing about being a hair stylist is that my fingers and my mouth are capable of independent action. So the scissors and the clippers did what my hands told them to do while my mouth chatted him up. Mid-20s, as I expected, a recently completed Ph.D., it turned out, working in cybernetic security. “Important stuff,” I said. He nodded. “Fascinating stuff, important stuff, fun stuff,” he agreed. “And all the social opportunities of a geriatric maiden aunt.” I blinked. Most young men in Blake Henry’s shoes are only interested in getting laid, something they’re pretty much genetically programmed never to achieve. “And almost all of them are straight,” he complained. “Whoever told me that tech was full of gay guys was full of it.” I arched an eyebrow. “Really?” He shrugged his narrow shoulders. “Well, no, not really, but I swear where I work they’re even geekier than the straights.” I tsked. “That hardly seems likely,” I suggested. He started to nod but I held his head in place. “Sorry,” he said. “But I’m deadly serious. They’re deadly dull. And going out…” I chuckled. “I’ll make you a money-back guarantee,” I said. “If this new hair cut doesn’t get you a phone number the next time you go out, the next one’s on me!” His eyes widened. “Really?” I nodded. “Dennis Allman’s the name, possibilities are the game,” I said in a TV game show announcer’s voice. “This IS a full service salon after all.” I handed him his glasses – YEESH! The glasses! – and let him take a look. “Whoah!” he said. “I sorta, almost, I mean…” He stuttered to a halt. “You look like a handsome young man,” I said. “If I didn’t have 25 years on, I’d ask you out!” He laughed, but in a pleased sort of way. “One thing, though,” I said. “You REALLY need to think about getting some new glasses. These don’t go with your face at all. They look like goggles. Go to a frames place and get some cute girl to help you pick out a new pair!” I stood – we were just the same height, 6 ft., as I thought – and he shook my hand. “Thanks for the great cut, Dennis!” he said. “I’ll see you in a month.” +++ A month later Blake was back and… “Wow, have you been working out?!” I asked. He chuckled. For his first visit Blake had worn a long-sleeve, white Oxford cloth shirt with a button-down collar that hung loose on his 160-lb. frame. This time he had on a solid black Polo that hugged him a like a second skin. There were pecs and delts and traps and abs and nice beefy arms. “I joined Meatheads,” he said, referring to one of Worthington’s hard core gyms. “And hired a personal trainer. Joe’s been working me hard!” I whistled. “I’ll say he has! Looks like you’ve put on 20 lbs.! He grinned that pearly white grin of his. “Twenty-seven to be precise,” he said, squeezing his forearms so a river delta of veins popped out. “187 this morning, right out of bed.” I just blinked, then pulled myself together. “So we’re doing the same thing as last time?” He nodded, then said. “You know, *I* thought the first thing you were going to notice were the new specs!” I did a double-take. I’d been so busy checking out all that new muscle I hadn’t even looked at the kid’s face! I’m afraid I actually blushed! “Oh, yeah, wow!” I said. “Much better fit for the shape of your face! Definitely NOT goggles!” In fact, they were sort of modified horn-rim, roundish lenses in full but lightweight frames, the tortoiseshell highlighted with a nice blue that brought out his eyes. “Good choice!” I said and got down to work. From time to time I’d glance at the mirror and that’s when I noticed that the chestnut highlights in his hair were repeated in the curls at the base of his neck. “You know,” I said. “I think you would look really good with a beard. I bet it has the same red highlights that are up here, doesn’t it?” He contemplated. “Good observation,” he said. “About the highlights, that is. It’s mostly brown everywhere I grow hair but the red’s definitely there. Those Scots-Irish roots, you know.” I nodded. He wasn’t the only one with Celtic forebears. “Now that your hair is shorter the bone structure of your face is much more obvious,” I said. “You have high cheekbones, a straight nose, a good strong jaw, and a firm chin. All of which stand on their own but beards are really in right now.” He chuckled. “And pretty fucking hot, too,” he said, cocking his finger at me. Well, yes. At 50, I had a headful of silver hair, a very nice silver beard, and silver curls on my chest, torso, arms, legs, etc. That and 235 lbs. of off-season beef, the product of having lifted recreationally for longer than young Mr. Henry had been alive, definitely put me in the top ranks of Daddy / Muscle Bears, enough so that I had posed for nude pix on more than many occasions over the preceding 15 years. I had ZERO interest in doing porn but taking my clothes off? No problemo! Made for a nice little supplementary income! “So we agree that we know whereof I speak?” He nodded. “Clearly, yes,” he said. “I’m just not sure I can grow a decent one. I tried when I was a freshman in college and it was a disaster. Very spotty.” I pointed at the chest curls. “Did you have those at the time?” He shook his head. “That didn’t come show up until later,” he pointed out. I nodded. What I’d thought. “Late bloomer,” I said. “I bet you could raise a decent thatch now!” When I finished with him, he stood up and gave me a hug, which surprised both of us, I think! That he’d done so, for one thing, and that it felt like I was hugging a sack full of bricks, for another. He was hard as fucking rock! “And you don’t owe a haircut,” he said, reminding me of my wager. “I got a number last night!” I slapped him on the ass. “Way to go stud!” He laughed and walked – no, take that back – he strutted out the door, his newly broad shoulders square and his chest full and proud. “See you next month, Daddy Bear!” Will wonders never cease!
  10. MuscleNexusTF

    Quarantined - Chap 1

    Hey guys! Here's the first chapter of a custom story I'm working on for a guy with lots of awesome ideas. It's something a bit different than what I normally do so hope you enjoy! Things are going to get crazy in the coming chapters... Originally posted on Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/posts/quarantined-chap-20683663 Day 1 Devon yawned. Almost midnight and he hadn’t accomplished anything other than watching the news all night. It wasn’t even as if anything interesting was going on, he just wanted something on and then news was consistent enough where he didn’t feel the need to change the channel every five minutes. He took a long sip of beer. It was his third bottle, but he didn’t even feel a buzz. This depiction of Devon might lead someone to think he was depressed, or loney, but really he was just plain bored. His boyfriend was deployed overseas and Devon was out of money, so pizza, beer, and news at home was the most fun he was probably going to have all weekend. From the corner of his eye he saw his phone’s screen light up. A little bubble appeared that just said Scott, his boyfriend of three and a half years. Devon couldn’t help but smile a little. He unlocked the phone and the message from his boyfriend in a far away place appeared. His smile widened. Hey babe. Some of the men down here in Madagascar have gotten sick. Army’s not saying what it is. Don’t think they now. They’re bringing us home early just in case. Can you pick me up from the airport tomorrow at 9? Devon did a silent fist bump to the air, grinning ear to ear. YES! He wrote back, unable to hide his excitment. Scott replied with a heart and kissing emoji and ‘goodnight, see you soon.’ Devon clutched his phone to his chest and breathed in a deep satisfying breath. Tomorrow he would be reunited with the love of his life. Day 2 “Scott!” Devon spotted his big man in uniform and trotted over to him. “Hey Dev,” Scott replied quietly before giving his boyfriend a quick peck on the cheek. “Well I hope you can give me more than that, c’mon big guy give me a real cass” Devon said with a touch more sass than he intended. Scott smirked at him, but his eyes remained serious. Dark rings around them betrayed long sleepless nights overseas. “Later. You’re parked outside?” “Yeah, in the usual spot.” Devon went to pick up his boyfriend’s oversized luggage, but his struggle against the unusual weight of the bag was evident and Scott plucked it out of his grip easily. Devon couldn’t help notice thick muscle bulging against his boyfriend’s army uniform. Scott was always big, but was he always that big?! “Here, let me,” he grunted in a tone a little less friendly than Devon would’ve liked. The couple walked to the car in relative silence. Devons initial questions were deflected so he stopped asking assuming that his partner was over-exhausted by his deployment and the flight home. When they were both in the car and miles away from the airport Devon spoke up. “You’re awfully quiet.” He glanced sideways at his military man looking for a reaction and finding none. “Everything okay.” “Fine.” Devon shrugged, letting only a hint of irritation cross his face. He scowled at the road for a beat until an idea crossed his mind. He sharply turned and exited off the highway. The big army man startled in his seat. “What the fuck. Where are you going?” “C’mon, you must be hungry. We’re going to that diner on Main.” “I’m not hungry, let’s just go home!” Devon looked sideways at his boyfriend with suspicion. Was that panic he detected in his baritone voice. Scott was usually the calm and collected one of the duo, it was unusual to see him riled up. “Well I am. Come on, it’ll be nice.” He turned into the Dixie Cow Diner’s parking lot and put the car into park. Before Scott could utter another objection Devon was out of the car and on his way into the small but busy restaurant. With a nervous sigh Scott followed. “Table for two please,” Devon declared cheerfully to a frazzled-lookking waitress. “Sure thing love.” She glanced up to see a Scott creep in gingerly. “Military eats free,” she droned before adding “thanks for your service.” She picked up two menus and brought the couple to a window seat. “How’s this hun?” “Great, thank you.” Devon took a seat and started thumbing through the menu. He glanced up to see Scott standing awkwardly, beads of sweat forming on the sides of his face. “Come on you lug, take a seat.” Scott slid himself into the booth, but didn’t speak. “Jeeze, it’s not that hot in here, you sure you’re feeling okay?” Devon asked the big man. This finally seemed to grab his attention and he looked across the table with pleading eyes. “No!” Scott declared before hushing his voice to a whisper. “No, everything is not okay.” Before Devon could ask what the hell his boyfriend meant, he told him. “I’m not supposed to be here. I’m supposed to be back in Madagascar still in Quarantine, with the rest of my unit.” Devon blinked at the big man, unsure of how to process what he just heard. He simply said “is that why you wouldn’t kiss me?” “Yes.” “Why? What is it? Is it contagious? Do you have it?!” “I don’t know.” Scott buried his face into his hands and spoke through his fingers. “I don’t think I have it. I don’t have any of the effects….” He glanced up at Devon. “That’s how I got out. I found a uniform from another unit, one that didn’t do that expedition. And I looked healthy so…. I got out.” Devon let out a breathy sigh and sat back somewhat relieved. “Well then we have nothing to worry about.” He winked and let a small smile reassure his boyfriend. But neither man was reassured. “What can I get you boys?” The waitress appeared with notepad in hand. “I’ll have the eggs benny with a coffee please,” Devon handed his menu to the waitress and sat back. “All right, all right. Good choice. And for you?” She looked at Scott. “I’ll have the same,” he mumbled. “Great! I’ll just grab that menu from you.” She reached in front of scott and lifted the menu off the sticky table sending a wave of thick perfume into the big man’s face. HIs nose twitched and his eyes bulged. Before he could stop himself or deflect it he sneezed on the waitresses outstretched hand and menu. “Excuse me,” Scott muttered to her sheepishly. “Sorry about that.” She gave him a strained smile and turned on her heel. The rest of their stay proceeded uneventfully. They chewed their food silently. Making small talk here and there. Devon didn’t want to push his boyfriend on the elephant in the room quite yet, he’d save that for home. He did begin to worry though as he noticed subtle changes in his boyfriend. He was breathing heavier than usual and sweating like he had just finished a workout. Also-and Devon almost refused to admit this to himself as it was surely impossible-he thought Scott had gotten even bigger since sitting down in the booth across from him. His muscles pushed at the camo fabric of his uniform. The whole sight made Devon chew his lip with lust as he thought of tearing that uniform off his beefy boyfriend and seeing those muscles for himself. On their way home Devon decided he couldn’t wait any longer to bring up what hed’ noticed in the restaurant. “Scott. Have you noticed anything… Different? Like with your body… Getting bigger maybe?” Scott visibly stiffened. “What do you mean?” Devon registered the panic in his boyfriend’s voice again and saw him pulling at his collar as if to loosen it. “I don’t think I’m bigger. If anything I lost weight.” Devon drove in silence. He let the subject drop but mulled over it ferociously in his head. Scott was lying! He could always tell, and this time it was more obvious than ever. “Here we are big guy.” Devon announced as he swung into their driveway. He couldn’t help but notice Scott cringe at the last two words. He turned the key and silenced the engine. “Welcome home!” He turned to face his boyfriend and his smile dropped. “Scott??” Scott was matted in sweat and panting like an animal. Thick corded veins ran up his neck which was noticeably thicker. Devon mistakenly thought it might be inflamed and began to panic. “Jesus, you don’t look too good. Fuck. Maybe you do have that thing. You get into the house and I’ll call a doctor.” “No!” Scott panted, turning groggily to his boyfriend. “No doctor.” “But!” Devon began to protest when Scott grabbed his arm firmly. “No.” They stared into each other’s eyes. Devon’s were clear and exuding concerning. Scott’s were unfocused, bloodshot, and feral looking. Devon shook his head, not believing he was giving in. “Fine, but if you get any worse I’m taking you in.” Scott accepted this and clambered out of the car. “I nap,” was all he said before heading into the house, leaving Devon to bring in his bags. “Fair enough” the small man grunted to himself as he slung heavy camo-printed bags onto his shoulders. Upstairs Scott stared at his reflection in their bedroom mirror. His thoughts came slow and muddled. He knew he was infected. Why had he sneezed on the waitresses hand? He knew it was on purpose. He felt a strange desire deep inside him to spread the infection. He tried to suppress it, which only made it stronger. A crooked smile appeared on his face. He looked down at his body. His previously athletic build was replaced with a hard, vascular, bodybuilder’s build. His muscles bulged obscenely, dusted with a thick coat of hair. Barely contained in his standard issue military briefs his mutated cock strained to break free. Fattened to monstrous proportions by the infection it begged to release the infection into Scott’s unwitting boyfriend. “No,” Scott growled under his breath. He tried to suppress the urge… The urge to make his mate like him. He sat on the bed for a second before swinging his giant muscled feet onto and then into the covers. Devon slammed the trunk hatch down and locked the car. “There. Done.” He said to himself, satisfied. He looked up at the bedroom window he shared with Scott with a furrowed brow. “Better check on the big lug,” he thought to himself before making his way back into the house. Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed and want to be notified when I post future chapters or other stories please consider supporting my work on Patreon! It would mean the world to this broke-ass bodybuilder with a penchant for writing muscle growth stories 😂 ---> https://www.patreon.com/MuscleNexus <---
  11. arpeejay

    Twink Fucker

    Standard proviso: If you’ve read one of my stories, you’ve read ALL of them. Proceed at your own risk with this new one. – RPJ Twink Fucker Part 1 By Richard Jasper The standard rap against muscle guys is that we’re only interested in other muscle guys. (And, yeah, I’m talking about GAY muscle guys, obviously! I frankly don’t have a clue what straight muscle guys are interested in, other that tits and ass!) If you think about it, it makes a certain amount of sense. Clearly, any man who invests the amount of time and energy, dedication and self-sacrifice, to build a physique superior to 99% of his peers is really-really-really likely to be attracted to muscles, not just his own but those of other guys as well. Likewise, it’s true that bodybuilding is a lifestyle and most people who are not into the lifestyle just don’t get it. With another bodybuilder you can more or less count on him understanding the sometimes bizarre (from an outsider’s point of view) quirks that make up the sport. Always needing to eat, always eating the same thing over and over and over again. Needing to train, needing to rest, needing to rest some more. No time going out, no time for movies, no time for partying, and on and on. But that’s them, not me. Oh, yeah, by the way, Aubrey Jenkins here. If you follow the sport, you know my name. I’m a nationally ranked, superheavyweight IFBB Pro. Haven’t made it yet to the Olympia but everyone agrees it’s just a matter of time. I’m 28 years old and I’ve been training since I was 16, which is about the time I topped out at my current 5’11 inches. I was a reasonably athletic 160 lbs. when I started training and in the 12 years since then I have essentially doubled my weight. You read that right. Off-season I weigh right around 320 lbs. with no more than 10 percent body fat. On stage you’ll see me at 285 lbs. and totally ripped to shreds. Like I said, it’s just a matter of time before the Sandow Trophy is mine. Give me 2-3 years to achieve a bit more muscle maturity and I will knock everyone’s socks off. My rock-solid eight-pack waist is 34 inches which might seem large except that my chest is a gargantuan 64 inches. Likewise, fully pumped my arms stretch the tape to 26 inches, my massive quads are the same size as my waist, and my calves and my neck are a ridiculous 24 inches. I dwarf most normal men and plenty of BIG men get nervous around me. I may half a foot shorter than the typical NFL linebacker but I weigh about the same amount and mine’s all muscle. I’m as strong as I am built. My personal best bench press one rep max is 1005 lbs., more than three times my bodyweight, which puts me among the elite strength athletes in the world (there are a literally a handful of other guys in the world who can bench more than half a ton!) And to top it off, I’m hung like a horse. You don’t see 10-inch dicks on that many guys under 6 feet but mine is and it’s fucking thick enough – eight inches around – to choke the aforementioned horse. +++ My prodigious endowment notwithstanding, I didn’t get around to having sex until I was 19. I knew I had a big dick and I knew I wanted to share it with someone – but not with whom! Girls did nothing for me. I looked at guys and I was always torn. I envied the jocks and wanted to have a body like theirs and when I discovered bodybuilding mags, hoo boy! Now that was what I was talking about! But I liked the skinny little geeks and always preferred hanging out with them. What did it all mean? I was afraid to find out. By the end of my freshman year of college, I was up 200 lbs. of solid muscle, with impressively broad shoulders and a ridiculously small waist. My 46-inch chest loomed over my 28-inch waist, which made my 18-inch arms and 26-inch quads that much more impressive. What happened was: Peter Chan got me drunk and into bed. I will never be able to thank him enough! He was a year older than I was and shared a double with Dave Pancoast, another sophomore. Theirs was directly across the hall from the one I shared with Will Hubbard, a fellow freshman. The four of us hung out together, Peter and Dave serving as excellent guides to Worthington University for me and Will. The last weekend before finals of spring semester, Dave and Will decided they needed to take a road trip down to Panama City Beach, where Dave’s parents had a condo. Peter and I both begged off, claiming the need to bone up for finals. Ha! “Bone up” indeed! Come to find out, Peter had been “boning up” all year – looking at me! – and now was his chance to find out a few things. Like, was the big guy gay? At that point, of course, I wasn’t particularly “big” but compared to Peter, I was the freaking Hulk! A fifth-generation Chinese American from San Luis Obispo, Peter was 5’7 and 125 lbs. sopping wet. Even so, he was an athlete, having run track in high school and serving as coxswain for the Worthington rowing team. He was gorgeous. Straight, black hair, classic features, great tan, and ripped to shreds, smart as a whip, and funny to boot. And, for whatever reason, passing for straight, always talking about “chicks” and dating this one while checking out that one. I was too naïve to realize that they were all dykes and that Peter over the course of two years had already half the rowing team and was making inroads among the wrestlers and the football players. Somehow we wound up on the floor of his dorm room, polishing off a bottle of Seagram’s 7 that he had lifted from his old man’s liquor cabinet on his last trip home. He was leaning against his bed, I was leaning against Dave’s, our legs parallel to each other. “You’re fucking huge,” he said, at one point, and I laughed. “Don’t I wish,” I replied. But I put my hands behind my head and flexed, even so. He grinned. “Well, quite aside from the fact that next to me, ANYONE is huge,” he continued. “You’re 200 lbs. of fucking ripped muscle. And it’s clear you have a tremendous amount of potential.” At that point, I swapped positions and hunkered down next to him, looking up at his handsome face. “You really think so?” He ruffled my hair. “I think you could be an elite athlete in any sport you chose,” he replied. “But it’s clear that you’re destined to be a bodybuilder.” I closed my eyes, imagining it. And that’s when he kissed me. I was surprised and not surprised, realizing I had been wishing all along he would do so. I learned a lot that night, about myself, about Peter, and, most of all, about sex. I’d never touched another man’s cock, much less sucked it (his was a perfectly suckable eight incher, smooth as a popsicle), much less had mine sucked, much less played with someone’s ass, or had mine played with. But most of all I learned that I loved being next to a guy whose legs were no bigger than my arms, whose shoulders were narrower than my chest, whose waist was the same size as my quads. A guy I could curl, for that matter. I was already unusually strong, benching 385 for reps and curling 135 – 10 lbs. more than Peter weighed. “You’re so fucking strong,” Peter said, more than once. “And I know some fucking strong guys.” I liked that. “You like strong fucking?” I asked. He moaned. “Well, then, let’s give this a whirl!”
  12. RosieWorships

    Full Moon Rising

    *Hey guys! First story here, and I really hope you enjoy. Any feedback is welcome, good or bad! It helps me grow... as an author ❤Rose* *** His eyes remained closed, as his left hand slowly trailed down the stiff fabric of his baggy uniform. Though he was almost certain he was in danger, there was a strange sense of calmness that kept him lying still. Especially as his fingers curled around the badge over the right side of his breast pocket. Without even looking, he knew they had just skimmed over the engraved words, 'Chicago Police, To Serve and Protect'. Everything else seemed intact as he continued to feel along his waist and flat chest-- two arms, two legs, ten fingers, ten toes. It wasn't until Officer Dominic Hastings tried to lift his scrawny right arm, that his eyes suddenly shot open. "The fuck is this?" The man muttered in a panicked whisper. He frantically tugged at the metal restraint around his wrist, but it wouldn't budge. Not that he had really expected it to. Embarrassment blossomed on his cheeks at the realization that these were his own cuffs. How had he gotten here, he wondered. And who the hell had restrained him? An incredible sinking feeling popped into his head at the thought of his whole life being a waste. He was so puny, so weak and pathetic-- it was a wonder at times that he had even passed the academy. How could he ever be expected to be taken seriously as an authority figure, if he couldn’t even keep himself from getting kidnapped in the process. With a shout for help, Dominic cringed as the words, "officer down" flew past his lips. As he continued to scream for what felt like hours, the policeman couldn't help but regret all the times he had passed on offers from his brothers in blue to help him out at the gym. Dominic licked his lips, his throat tight from all the yelling. He opened his mouth to let out another scream when suddenly the door in front of him slammed open with a bang. He was terrified as the dark silhouette shifted in and out of the shadows. There was something almost inhuman about the way the figure moved-- almost like a predator stalking her prey. He shuddered involuntarily as she finally stepped forward into the moonlight. His memory was a little hazy, but he definitely remembered her glowing green eyes and sharp teeth sinking down into his flesh just before he blacked out. "I am truly sorry for that." She gestured with a nod as his free hand flew up to his neck. When he pulled it back, he was surprised to see a sticky copperish substance smeared across the tips. "I always thought I’d have more self control," the woman confessed. "But the moment I saw you, well--" Her voice was husky and oozing with desire as she trailed off before wetting her lips. As she looked up at him through those hooded eyes, Dominic couldn't peel his gaze away from her. She was tall and curvaceous, her stunning little hourglass figure calling to him in a bad way. With big tits and a rounded ass he couldn't recall a time when a woman had ever looked at him the way she was looking at him now. He wondered what it would feel like to run his hands along her soft curves. So caught up in his lustful thoughts, Dominic almost hadn’t noticed the intense burn coursing through his bloodstream. As she moved to sit next to him, he could almost swear that the room was starting to get warmer-- smaller. He watched her lips turn downward into a frown as perspiration broke out across his forehead and neck. "The fever is starting to set in already," she announced, giving him a look of concern before swiping at his brow. "I didn't mean to bite you so soon," she apologized again. "But now that I have, you're going to experience some changes." With a loud groan, Dominic rolled his head back and forth across his shoulders, trying to clear his thoughts. He wasn’t sure what the hell was going on, but suddenly he found the fabric of his uniform annoyingly too tight. It must have been clinging to his body from all the sweat that was currently pouring off him. "You should let me go." His eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. Was that his voice, he thought. It sounded so deep. So-- animalistic. "I'm a cop," he continued, despite the dropping octave. "People are going to come looking for me," he insisted. "And when they do, they'll put you in cuffs." "Is that a promise?" She purred. As her hand brushed across the thickest part of his leg, he was almost positive he could see muscles beginning to ripple underneath his own skin. His body surged with excitement at a power he'd never felt before. He began panting slightly as she shifted closer, dark curls tumbling just past her shoulders. The luxerious locks were almost within reach of his free hand. If she just moved an inch or so closer, he could take her. Grasp that pretty little neck and bury his length deeper than ever before-- What the actual fuck was happening right now, he wondered. He need to somehow regain some control. "If you let me go, I promise I won't press charges," he growled. "You should know though, if my partner finds you first, he might try to haul that pretty little ass of yours off to jail." Dominic surprised himself with his own words. He would have never dreamed of talking to a woman like that before. Even more surprising though, were the changes he could feel taking place in his body. As he tensed his arm and tugged at the restraint again, he noticed this time how a massive bicep on his arm bulged out wildly into a ginormous ball of muscle. The vein running along the top as wide across as his finger, seemed to pulse in time with his heartbeat distributing even more power. He couldn’t believe how huge his arms were! Swelling to the size of softballs and still GROWING bigger. Excitement shot through him as the navy fabric of his shirt suddenly split down the middle. Immediately he grew aroused by the monstrous peak of his own incredible arm. Shit. Even his peak had a fucking peak. "I have a feeling that in a few minutes jail will be the least of my concerns" the woman smirked. The growing policeman shook his head again as the woman shifted to her hands and knees. He swore her eyes were glowing as she slowly crawled towards him. Shallow breaths blew heavily out his mouth as his nostrils flared. It was almost painful how quickly his blood pulsed and rushed to his member. He had always dreamt of being huge, being so strong he could take and dominate this sexy, little thing. Then another thought suddenly occurred to his haze filled brain-- when had she become little compared to him? "Are you some kind of witch?" He practically bellowed as his shaft strained angrily against the zipper of his pants. It dawned on him now that his cock wasn’t the only thing threatening to shred through his pants. As they shortened considerably and drew up his now tree trunk sized legs, Dominic realized that at the same time his entire lower half seemed to stretch down the length of the bed. He had to be nearly six and a half feet. "Damn it woman, what kind of spell did you put on me?" he asked. With a laugh, the woman sat back on her haunches. "It’s not a spell," she giggled. "Though I guess you could consider it magic. What you're experiencing is your body preparing and transforming you into the perfect alpha mate." "Alpha? Mate?" He repeated the words as though trying them out for the first time on his own. It sounded right to him-- mate. This woman would now be his to claim. “This better not be like some sort of fucked-up Twilight shit," he growled. The beautiful brunette laughed again, but Dominic was no longer amused. As her incredibly delicious scent wrapped around him, Dominic suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to protect her-- to make her his and to fuck her gorgeous brains out all at once. The sound of his pulse thrummed in his ears, his entire body raging with fever. “Fuck,” he swore. It felt so good to be so fucking huge. With a snarl, he tugged at the restraint as his body exploded with power. The metal of the bedpost screeched in protest as it suddenly began to twist and bend. "You need to calm down." Dominic flinched as the female grabbed hold of his face. Her hands instantly created a calming effect on his burning flesh, but there was something else-- something primal starting to take up residence inside his brain. "If you don't stop, your transition could be more painful," she warned. With the sudden realization that the woman was straddled across his lap, Dominic fisted her hair with his left hand and tugged her chin up. He could feel a series of scars just underneath her hair line, but an explanation would have to wait. His lips greedily left a wet trail across her jaw and down to her throat. The more he touched, the more he wanted. Tossing his head back, Dominic let out a mighty roar, his voice dropping so low, so quick that he could see it visibly send shivers down his mate’s spine. He was growing so ripped, so fucking huge, he could practically feel his lats exploding out of his ever widening back. Underneath his shirt, he was sure six well defined bricks of solid flesh were pounding their way out of his once concave stomach. The woman gasped as she looked down, the ripping sound of his pants startling them both momentarily. Her hands tore at the remnants of his shirt, shoving the ribbons aside in order to expose more of his bulging chest. Each mound of striated hard muscle had to jut out at least four and a half inches from his monsterous chest. "Your wolf is going to be huge," she moaned, looking up at him through thick lashes. Dominic growled his approval as her hands slid down from his broadening shoulders over the hard planes of his pecs. She bit down on her full, bottom lip before rocking her hips back and forth on his lap-- searching for something-- anything that would create friction where she needed it most. Leaning forward, her teeth scraped against the side of Dominic's thick neck before nibbling on his ear. "Huge and all mine." Dominic liked the sound of that, and at the moment, the idea of becoming a werewolf was suddenly exciting. While most of the world was unaware of their existence, being a cop, he had seen too many things-- too many paranormal things to remain oblivious to the paranormal world. Strong fingers curled around her slender neck as he crushed his mouth to hers. His cock stiffened even more as his hand trailed down underneath her shirt, exploring her ample breasts. But he wanted more, if only he could just get free. He wondered if this was how a junkie felt. Always searching for the next high. This woman was like his own personal brand of drug and he just couldn't get enough. He wanted-- No. He needed more. With a thunderous cry, the handcuff easily tore like papier-mâché. The woman's eyes widened, the color quickly draining from her face. Clearly, she hadn't anticipated Dominic getting loose so early, but there was no need for her to worry. With his pupils fully blown, the thought of leaving this room was the furthest thing on his mind. Letting out a howl of pleasure, Dominic pushed his mate into the mattress before mounting her between his legs. With a fistful of fabric in each hand, the officer ripped her blouse open. He smirked as she gasped. Buttons popping and flying everywhere. He could see her nipples pebble underneath the black lace of her bra as her skin was exposed to the cool, night air. "I don't know if I can control myself," he looked down at her with concern before flexing his massive arms. The strength flowing through him was new and exhilarating if not a little overwhelming at the same time. As his hand trailed down over his chest he couldn’t help but feel so fucking big. "I don't want to hurt you.” Her eyes flashed green again before answering, her fingers scraping across his thick, hairy legs. "You won't," she promised. That was all the encouragement he'd need. As a mischievous glint sparkled in his sapphire blue eyes, his hand went to the middle of his back. With a grin, the now hulking officer pulled a spare pair of handcuffs from the back of his belt. Slowly he lifted one slender arm above her head before grabbing the other. "You have the right to remain silent," he said. "But I dare you to try." His hands roughly gripped his mate’s thighs before spreading her open to accommodate his wide frame. As he wrapped her long legs around his narrow waist, the woman gazed up at him. Biting down on her lower lip, her eyes roamed over him until they landed on the incredible bulge tenting his pants. “You know,” she smirked. “This really kind of gives a whole new meaning to the song ‘Fuck the Police’.”
  13. JadeDragon

    The Jock Hunter

    Well, due to this being requested to be posted on this site since the O’Melissokomos site isn't compatible with mobile, here is The Jock Hunter for all who wished to read it here. Enjoy. (It's an old, story so please don't just my atrocious use of flowery prose. I do NOT write like this currently). Prologue: It was quiet. The crisp night air slithered through the trees, swaying the boughs and shivering the leaves. I stood in the darkness, the gathered night shielding me from any prying eyes. I watched Narrow Steed Community College, a boxy, rectangular bulk across the football field. The scent of my prey still lingered here, from the afternoon’s practice. I inhaled deeply, drawing the scent further into my nostrils. I paced the field, the grass and dry autumn leaves making no sound, observing the school, purveying my new territory, my fresh hunting ground. For that is after all what I am. A Hunter, a Hunter of jocks, all those who exude the heady masculinity that satiated my gnawing hunger. And Hunt them I did, for as the Lion is made to hunt the Gazelle, so I was made to Hunt them; my scent, my movement, all of it a tool to seduce and then consume their masculinity. I picked up a maple leaf, ochre red, like blood, I crushed it in my left hand, feeling the dry leaf in my hand turn to dust. “So it begins…” The Jock Hunter Part One By: JadeDragon (Solomon, previously) Narrow Steed was certainly your average rural college; you had your Brains, your Jocks, your Airheads, essentially the Cool Crowd, and the Not Cool Crowd. It was so explicitly ordinary that the student’s often complained that if only something ever happened then they would have good reason to show up to class on time. As it stood, the Cool Crowd was certainly outnumbered by the Not Cool, but as a whole, Narrow Steed Community College had a healthy population of jocks. Specifically the football jock, rare species he is in less rural areas. But, when in the rural areas, this particular species of jock thrives, as evidenced by their healthy population in this backwater college. So as the morning bell rang, I entered the college. The halls were concrete faux brick, as so many of the old colleges are, the walls made in the style reminiscent of the fifties, the linoleum floor in a constant state of needing to be cleaned. The caretakers tried their best, but in this old building dirt was so ingrained it was the floor. The student’s bustled about their way, most heading to class, some not, whether or not they actually had a spare period was anybody’s guess. I walked past the milling figures, masking my presence, watching their faces. No one would suspect what I was, and the people that do are only too late. Who would suspect a scrawny guy like me, looking like he’s hardly 18, let alone how old I really am, as someone worth even a first thought, let alone a second one. I posed a fantastic amount of danger to the resident jocks, though they don’t seem to be in the halls. Going on a hunch, I head to the cafeteria. Some may wonder how I just slip into a totally foreign college and be there, without registering or papers. I can, to some extent, direct people’s patterns of thought, if anybody asks, they find their minds glazing over the subject until it seems like the fact that I’m there just is. A useful tool indeed to stalk my prey; and now I must get to the stalking part. As I entered the cafeteria, the poignant smell of the jocks hit me over the head like an aluminium baseball bat. Mixed in, of course, are the rotten, fetid smells of those disgusting cafeteria foods, I can hardly guess how these people manage to eat that slop. But there! Like a jewel amidst mere pebbles, there they are! My prey, the jocks, had their own table. They were all dressed in their appropriate jerseys; some were alarmingly svelte, receivers and their ilk. They weren’t my prime choice of prey, but thankfully there were more than enough of my “tenderloin” meat than I usually hope for. Many of them had bulging muscle, their pecs stretching the front of their jerseys, while their thick, powerful arms seemed to attempt to burst from their sleeves. Some, of course, had softer, less defined muscle, where their bellies stretched their jerseys also, but I have nothing against them. They still prove to be most succulent meals, those linemen, linebackers, and fullbacks. The others of my kind have their own personal tastes, but to me nothing is wrong for a man, or jock, to have a little bit of pudge, or a gut, as long as the muscles matched. Choosing a table across the room from where my handsome prey are sitting, I close my eyes, focussing my hearing in the hopes of eavesdropping upon them. Straining, I begin to pick out their voices: “Fuck yeah, man! Thursday’s game was totally awesome! Thirty four to three, shit we rock!” said Scott, punctuating his point by slamming the grey plastic and metal table. The steel buckled a little, as his bicep bulged. Scott was strong, his buffed frame stretching out his jersey fashionably, but he enjoyed parties too much to have a six pack. His brown curly hair and blue eyes made up for it though, at least the girls he fucked told him as much. “But man, we should’ve had a shutout.” complained Russell. “If Chris over here hadn’t let them fucking through the defensive!” Russell was a little bit of a cry baby, despite his enormous 6 foot 4 inches, and 230 pounds. He was a linebacker, but only had a bit of a roid belly and was otherwise lean, since he was so needle-happy. But his straight, short blonde hair and baby blue eyes lent him an extremely fetching look. “Shut up, Russell!” shouted Chris, giving Russell a swat to the back of the head. Chris was a true blue linebacker, his muscle softened with fat and his jersey deformed in the front by his belly. “It’s the day before game day, and we don’t need your fucking attitude messing with us getting into the zone!” “What fucking zone is that, Chris?! There is no fucking zone, except the end zone, which you let number eighty-nine into!” said Russell, raising his voice. “Shut up, the both of you!” said Brad, team captain. He was a true prize; he was a bulked god, 300 pounds and 6 foot 2 inches at least. His dark, wavy hair was only of average length, not too long. His handsome clear green eyes looked out from beneath his dark eyebrows. His body was well proportioned, and his muscle was fantastic, but he was fond of the keg a little too much, and had a little paunch, but he was still a true man, his heady masculine scent rolled off him in waves. And if the bulging package in his jeans was any indication, he was just as fine without his clothes on too. He was smoking hot; I could feel the hunger gnaw at me more acutely, as hunger gnaws at a starving man more fiercely as he stands before a magnificent feast. “Yeah, or I’ll bust your ass in practice, you hear?” Quipped Mike, Brad’s Lieutenant in every sense of the word. He had flaming red hair, and malachite green eyes. He on the other hand, was much more disciplined in terms of diet then his friend, and his tight, defined muscles bulged from every part of him. His traps were so huge he looked like he was on a permanent shrug. His arms looked as hard as marble, and his thighs stretched his jeans like a sausage in a too tight skin, and his package stretched out his tight jeans nicely too. They continued their conversation for some time, nothing more relevant to my intellect then if a man were listening to the conversation of molluscs. As much as they were buff, hot, and handsome, they were still a lower life-form in comparison to me. Still watching their flexing, heaving muscles stretch and deform their jerseys was more than enough to get me hard, hot, and bothered. I smiled to myself ruefully; I always took so much interest in my food. I couldn’t wait to taste those muscles, and their thick, hot, jock cum. And watch them shrivel before my eyes. Suddenly the group got up, breaking my concentration and startling me out of my erotic thoughts. I could hear no more of their conversation, and the other handsome morsel’s names escaped my attention. Picking themselves up, some more hulking and slow than the others, the jocks herded out the door of the cafeteria, I walked toward the orange painted steel doors, and followed. The morning progressed, as I continued to stalk the hall; following the scent of my helpless prey. The halls often meandered aimlessly, like the architect was on acid or something. Nevertheless, I followed the delectable aroma wafting through the air unerringly, and I found my prey. I walked the halls, with the scent trail in my nostrils, my walk full of purpose and intent. People’s eyes would slide over me like my image was dark as black onyx. I arrived at my destination, the gymnasium, the reek of football jocks hung about me in the air. I loitered around the gymnasium change room in the late morning, stalking the scent of my acquired prey, Brad. Leaning against the cold concrete, I watched his nice round but stretching the back of his jeans, his muscles and gentle fat hopelessly alluring, hinting at a treasure trove of hot muscle and masculine energies. He was so ripe, so juicy for the picking I couldn’t resist going for him first. Normally, I try to pace myself, but I hadn’t fed in so long, he was just the fix I needed to take the edge off the hunger. Watching as he and some other football jocks entered the men’s change room, I entered as well. It must be time for morning practice, I thought to myself with a smirk. The change room was well lit, and there was a bench with metal bars extending to the ceiling with hooks in the centre of the room. The bars themselves were painted, but the paint had flaked and rust had devoured the bars in some places. The football lockers were off to one side, and the other walls had benches, but the hooks were only just drilled into the concrete. The floor was, inevitably, caked with grime and the showers were less-than-pleasant. As I walked in, breathing the scent of football jock, the football jocks themselves were in various stages of undress, but most were at least down to their boxers, and one or two boxer briefs, and just one in briefs. They turned, curious at the intrusion, some not bothering to look, complacent in their perceived dominance as the top of the food chain. Oh, how so, so wrong they are. However, as my scent filled to room, as it must, for I exude it as surely as their reek of masculinity wafts off of them, they all turned to look at me. Packages of various levels of impressiveness began to stretch their underwear. I eyed up the twin stretches of their balls, and was impressed at how well endowed this particular group of jocks were. Their strong, muscular bodies rippled as they turned and stared at me. Some were soft with fat, others hard and ripped. The others, the unappetizing scrawny ones weren’t here, so I stared casually at the smorgasbord which lay before my eyes. They all were so positively gods of muscle, of the masculine form; it would make what would come next all the more steep a fall for them. I licked my lips, nothing was more appetizing then college football jocks! “Oh my, I guess I must have gotten turned around.” I said, turning toward the door. I smirked, as I readied myself against the onslaught of noise sure to come. Instantly, the jocks leapt into action, their thick, muscular bodies moving to try and direct me, to get closer to me, anything to be near me. Their heaving, bulky bodies jostled each other, but of course, the strongest of them would elbow his way to me first. I turned toward Brad, his thick, but slightly fat softened muscles heaved the crowd apart, and he reached me. He had muscled the other jocks out of the way and was leaning close to me; I could see him start to sweat with nervousness. I could also see his bull balls were too large for the pair of briefs he had on, for I could see their sides as they stretched the white fabric briefs. His thick cock, now at least 14 inches hard, was peeking out of the top of his briefs as well. The whole of the fabric of his briefs strained to contain the immensity of his godlike cock and balls, so full and thick they were. He shook his hair and smiled, flexing his shirtless muscles slightly. “Hey, man. Are you new here? What’s your name?” he asked, with a smile, as his cock throbbed harder and harder, no doubt my presence was going to make him cum without even touching his thick cock. “John Smith.” I answered; my “official” name was always that incredibly generic, so no one could trace me, not that they’d succeed in harming me if they did. “No, problem, I’ll help you. I know the school and I can show you around.” said Brad, leaning against the wall, close enough that our respective scents were flooding the nostrils of the other, mine making him horny and his making me hungry. He pulled ever closer to me, as I got the full view of his strong traps, thick, meaty pecs, and little paunch of a belly. “No, it’s alright; I’ll just get a map from the office.” I said, wanting to make him squirm a little. I reached for the door handle. “No! Wait!” shouted Brad, his voice laced with the tone of panic, slamming the door shut. The other jocks too, shouted their protest. “No man, don’t go!” “We’ll be your pals!” “Please, stay!” Brad couldn’t understand what was happening to him. This scrawny little guy was making him so horny, he wanted to touch him, kiss him, and fuck him. “I’m not a fag” was Brad’s surest thought, but he was so turned on, he could barely care about that. His cock however, told no lies to me, even though I could hear his thoughts clearly, it strained and bulged and pulsed, aching for release. Brad panted, and rubbed his monster cock though the fabric of his tight briefs. He loved wearing pairs of briefs that was too tight for him; it accentuated his monster cock even more. He was especially proud his was the biggest cock on the team, and he flaunted it mercilessly. The other jocks shifted on their feet restlessly, I could feel they wanted me, badly, but I used my telepathy to make sure they took no action just now; I’d get to them later. I smiled, and lay a hand on his bulging bicep, feeling the curvature, admiring the power and thickness of the muscle. Brad’s cock leapt again, his breath quickened, and he looked like he was about to cum right then and there. I leaned in close against his body, looking at its thickness, admiring the buff, juicy muscle; his pecs were just so nice, two full, round domes of muscle. His thick cock had started to ooze precum, and the scent was difficult to resist, I wanted to feed right then and there, but I steeled myself. I placed my hand on his chest, and stroked downward, enjoying the feeling of his smooth skin, before reaching his soft bellybutton. His little paunch, but now that I see it up closer, in my scrutiny I realise it’s more like a baby gut than anything else. I push into the soft warmness of it with my index finger, and instantly Brad shot his thick jock load. His thick muscular body wracked with the spasms of his orgasm, and his thick creamy cum soaked onto his belly and into his underwear, till they were both dripping with jizz. His heavy body leans on me for support as the thrusting of his hips made him weak at the knees as he shot wad after wad of cum. Finally, after what seemed an eternity of bliss to Brad, his orgasm let up, and he staggered, struggling to lift his heavy body to his own two feet. He blushed as he realised what had just happened, the still-hot cum dripping from his underwear and belly. The other jocks were silent, my power still influencing their minds to remain inactive, both my scent, and my telepathy. My left hand is covered with his cum, I raise it to my mouth, and lick slowly, savouring the delectable taste, but the meal is hollow. It is not the cum of jocks that truly will sate my hunger. He shudders, at the sight of my tongue slipping across my fingers, scooping up his thick jock jizz, obviously imagining my tongue at work doing other things. My smile is sanguine as I begin to act out the next part of my plan. “Brad, why don’t you come with me, and I can take you out to lunch?” I say with a winning smile. “What do you say?” I conclude. Brad’s face light’s up like the morning sky. “Yeah…sure…totally!” Brad said, shaking with excitement, his cock giving another stretch of his briefs, desperate for freedom. His slight gut jiggling, I say: “How about you get cleaned up, I’ll take you outside, to the college parking lot? We can get in my car, and I’ll drive you.” I say, now not bothering to hide the seductive tone in my voice. I reach out my right hand and fondle his bull balls through his underwear, admiring their great weight. “Oh god, I’ll be right there!” said Brad, flinging off his soaked underwear, letting his enormous cock flop free. The scale of the thing was truly enormous, his 14 inch cock was too thick for even his own meaty paws to get around, and his balls were each as big as a softball. The other jocks were eyeing Brad enviously I noticed, not just for the fact he was gaining my attention, but I think he must have flaunted that dick every chance he got. Rapidly Brad put on another too-tight pair of briefs, although this one quite dry. Quickly Brad followed with the rest of his clothes, but this time wearing a tight blue tee-shirt rather than his jersey, which he threw into his football locker, Brad came up next to me. Smiling briskly, he wrapped one thick, muscular arm around my shoulder, as his cock throbbed and stretched through his tight jeans. “Let’s go.” I say with a smile, as I wrap my arm around his slightly pudgy waist, and lead him out the change room door, while the other jocks kneaded their own thick cocks through their boxers, looking at my retreating form forlornly. I gave them a wink, and mouth “I’ll be back later”; leaving with my meal safely in tow. Giving Brad a quick squeeze, we departed. As we walked down the hallways leading toward the front of the building, I gently knead and massage Brad’s body, all the muscles and fat, and he relaxed in my embrace. My pheromones also help as well, drawing this hapless hunk deeper under my spell. The longer he’s around me, the more his mind is affected, and soon he’ll be unable to resist me at all. I’m sure he could hardly think straight as I thrust open the door to the building into the bright sun on a beautiful cloudless day. I lead him out across the parking lot to my car, heading into the back forty. The silver paint of my gleaming Prius shines in the midmorning sunlight, and I opened the car door for my prize, and helped him into the car, for by now his motor skills are beginning to be impaired, as any drunk would. I think to myself with a smile: “Except he’s now drunk with my presence rather than alcohol, the hapless stud.” I get in myself, in the driver’s seat and close the door, locking the car. I can see his massive meat throb in his jeans, and I grasp his upper arm, squeezing that thick bicep of his. His panting, laboured breathing is cut off as I draw him into a passionate kiss. I can feel a slight blip in his thoughts that this is wrong, that he’s not homosexual, but it is swiftly crushed into oblivion under the tsunami of pleasure my scent and proximity invoke. He leans into me, now, and we kiss long and hard, his soft lips against mine, and my blood runs hot as my own cock gets even harder. All too soon, I pull away, grinning like a madman. “How about that lunch, Brad?” I say, as I start the car and start driving. Quickly turning out of the parking lot and begin to drive down the main road before quickly following the back road. We drive for about half and hour, all the while Brad’s huge chest heaving with his heavy breathing, as he kneads his titanic dick through his tight jeans. We make it to my house, in this part of the country at least; the open, modern design shining in boxy chrome, glass, and white concrete. “This is your house?” asked Brad breathlessly. Quite astute for his horny state, I think to myself. “Yep, it’s all mine, inheritance, billions of dollars. Come inside, I’ll give you a time to remember.” I say, slyly. I squeeze his cock through his jeans, and get out of the car, and walk over to the passenger door and help my stud out of my car; leading my prey into the lion’s den, as it were. I watch his tight shirt, his muscles and slight pudge stretching the fabric, and I’m even starting to become impatient, my heart beating faster, anticipating what is to come. “Wow, you must be rich!” exclaims Brad, as he peruses the plush interior. Expensive paintings and furniture adorned the walls and floors, respectively, with an overall modern style. I lean over as we enter the spacious modern kitchen and give Brad’s slight love handle a squeeze. “You bet. You look a little decadent as well, Brad.” I say with a wink. Brad blushed profusely, trying to pull down his tight shirt which was riding up his gut slightly. “Uh, yeah I’m totally planning on hitting the gym and losing it!” he said, fumbling, his blush getting even redder as he began to look uncomfortable. “That’s not a problem, Brad; I like them with a bit of meat.” I said, with emphasis. My touch has Brad breathing like a marathon runner again, and his thick cock is straining to be free of its denim prison. “You know, we may as well forget about lunch, Brad. We know what we both want, don’t we?” I say, smiling, leaning even closer, only a kiss distance away. “I’m n-not que-…” Brad begins, but I cut him off with another kiss, my pheromones flooding his system now, dissolving even the faintest hint of resistance. I could feel the chemical consume his conscious resistance like a school of ravenous piranha. I was all Brad wanted now, nothing mattered except me. Breaking away from his muscular embrace, I pulled Brad’s tight shirt over his head, and admired the soft muscularity of his chest, and the slight treasure trail curving down his paunch. Soon I’m all over him, kissing his pecs, his arms, all over his chest, and working my way down his body, feeling the warm flesh with my lips. The kisses of course were fucking hot, but that wasn’t the only reason why. Each kiss was an injection of my venom, which was now coursing through Brad’s body, preparing it for my feeding on his masculinity, on the totality of his testosterone reserves. He didn’t notice, as I did, that his bull balls were swelling in the fabric of his jeans even more now, and the weakness of his muscles as already they began to liquefy and flow to his balls. As I whipped the belt away and undid his jeans, Brad began to moan: “Do it, John, I want you, do it…” And I was happy to oblige. His already large package had swelled even more ridiculously with the venom, and his briefs were starting to tear from their sheer size and weight. I pulled his briefs swiftly down, but I didn’t remove his pants yet, I loved the way the clothes hung on these hapless jocks after I was done feeding on them. Grasping his now 16 inch cock, feeling it pulse in my grip in time with Brad’s heartbeat. His log of a dick oozing precum, I wrap my lips around its warm, sensuous surface. Pushing it as deep into my mouth as it could go, I start to suck and slurp Brad’s monster dick. “Oh…god…fuck…FUCK!” muttered and moaned, and even occasionally shouted, Brad, as all my pheromones and venom coursed through his body, producing lust and sexual desire unlike any he had before experienced, and wouldn’t wear off till I had drained him for every last drop. The thick, creamy precum was already sliding down my throat as I sucked his thick dick even harder, drawing my tongue up and down the thick shaft, and sometimes making swallowing motions with it in my throat. The warm pulsing cock was one of the best I had ever sucked, and I especially appreciated its size, and I was rock hard knowing what was going to start happening next. I knew that Brad wasn’t going to last long after all the things I was doing to his cock. Finally, he shot his first load, his thick cock convulsing with each wad of cum shot, and he leaned against the kitchen counter for support, as he suddenly felt much weaker, but much hornier than ever. As the hot cum belted down my throat, Brad began to change, slowly, gradually, at first. I watched as his huge pecs started to deflate, like two spherical balloons with the air let out of them. His massive biceps deflated, loosing inch after inch as he cummed his own muscles away, shrinking and collapsing. His thick thighs and calves started loosing their tree trunk look, shrinking and losing muscularity and strength. Most noticeably of all, inch after inch of height was being lost by my manly stud, as his system was drained of testosterone and masculinity. His once massive chest was surely, steadily losing size and thickness, his whole body shrinking down like he was an inflatable with a sizeable leak. Not exempted was his godly cock, which was now also steadily shrinking, as I could fit more and more of its diminishing length and thickness in my mouth, I sucked even harder, as I felt my hunger beginning to lose its edge. “John, I…feel…funny…” Brad gasped, but he didn’t try to pull away, not that he would have succeeded anyway. His mighty cock, 16 full thick inches when we started was now diminished to only 9, even shorter than when it was before the venom was given. I watched with complete satisfaction as his softball balls contract with each blast of hot cum, but failing to expand to their previous volume, soon they were diminished to tennis ball size. His package was still manly, but he was definitely nowhere near the biggest guy on the team, in both senses of the word. His frame was not severely diminished; he was no longer the man he once was. I on the other hand, my body finally nourished after so long a fast, was growing. I was getting taller and my clothes tighter as my flat chest expanded, new muscles coursing into my arms and legs as they thicken and strengthen. My pecs now domed outward, and my arms are now shredding my shirtsleeves. My but and thighs shredded my jeans, and soon I was quite naked, minus a very tight pair of briefs. Finally, after Brad is done on his high, panting while leaning back on the counter. I stand up and we now face eye to eye. He still retained quite a build, but nothing like the godly one he had before. “Holy shit, what did you do to me John!” screamed Brad, now clearly panicking, backing away from me slowly. “I had my first course, Brad. Don’t worry; you still look like you have a second one in you.” I said, grinning sinisterly. Brad at once leapt for the door, but I grabbed him and tossed him like a rag doll onto the couch in the adjoining living room. Of course, I looked bigger and more muscular, my shredded clothes were absolute testament to that, but I’m always much stronger than any normal human being anyway, no matter my build. Leaping onto him I grab his smaller but still pretty thick cock, still hard and quivering, ready to be milked again. I latched onto it like a lamprey eel, and began to suck again, holding down his struggling body with one hand. I once again played up and down the surface of his cock with expertise, bringing him closer to the doomed orgasm. “God no! Please, stop this, let me go, John! I don’t want to be a weakling! I’m made to be a muscle stud!” Brad begged, pleaded and even cursed and screamed, with many variations and permutations. But I would not relent, I wanted it, needed it. I could feel him try to deny the coming orgasm, but my venom was just too potent an aphrodisiac to be denied. “NOOOOO!!!” screamed Brad, as he blasted his jockdom-fatal load. He began collapsing again as his hot, thick jock cum streamed down my throat, and I missed not a single drop. His average jock physique quickly became just average, as his pecs and biceps melted away. And not even a hint of traps above his shoulders, and his legs shrivelled. He had lost over a foot in height now, and his cock was shrinking even in my mouth, loosing inch after inch becoming less of a man-cock and more a boycock. Soon, his average physique transformed into the scrawny, as his muscle rapidly diminished to almost nothing, but his fat was still the same, however. Without the balancing effect of his muscles, now he was just a short flabby weakling. I could feel his now 6 inch cock was the last to complete its change, as it continued to shrink in my mouth, and his balls pull up. While his body was shrinking, mine was expanding, my chest grew ever more voluminous and my arms were like howitzers! My own body, devoid of fat, was tight and ripped, my abs deeply chiselled along my abdomen. My own cock, once a mere 6 inches, was now the 16 inch monster Brad once possessed, and my balls feeling engorged and enormous, the unaccustomed weight turning me on like nothing else. I was a beast, now. I had Brad’s build, but without the fat. My muscle now bulging, rippling and heaving, as I flexed for the frightened little rabbit that was all that was left of a once mighty jock. “So, Brad, how do you like me now?” I asked, in my deeper more manly voice, pulling a most muscular at him. He made a ghastly little strangled noise in his throat, too frightened to speak, but his hard 1 inch cock and quivering peanut balls told me all I needed to know. Grasping his shoulders, and marvelling at his now tiny frame was now in comparison to mine, I rammed my log of a cock deep as it would go into his throat. Brad struggled vainly against me, as I made him deepthroat my now enormous cock, enjoying the tightness of his throat, and now only 5 foot 4 inch body. As we fucked, his struggling ceased as he surrendered to our sex, and his little dick and balls shot a little dribble of cum of their own as I continued to screw him. Finally the tightness was just too much, and I couldn’t hold it. “FUCK!” I shouted, as I blasted thick ribbons of heavy cum into him, he squirmed a little again, but he ceased as his body rapidly swelled with new fat as my bull balls unloaded an endless current of cum into his body, his flabby frame swelling with each shot. I just kept cumming and cumming, Brad’s flabby body expanding in all directions, now no hint of his former self remained. Finally spent, I pull out of him and I collapse to the floor with a heavy thud, wheeling with the orgasm of our intense fuck. Resting for a few minutes, I got up and surveyed the gently jiggling tub of lard I’ve created out of a once muscular, thick football jock. His swollen formed rested on the sleek couch, a perfect juxtaposition if there ever was one. If I had to guess, Brad was about 300 lbs of pure flab, quite a lot for his frame. I smiled, and dressed in Brad’s old clothes, and quickly going to my room and fishing out some spare huge ones I had for whenever I was done feeding. Epilogue: After clothing Brad’s unconscious form and myself too, and carrying him effortlessly to my car, I drove Brad home to his dorm in silence, for he wouldn’t wake for a few more hours still. He wouldn’t remember what had happened, and I’d use my powers to make sure no one else would notice anything unusual either. I flexed my newly stolen muscle through my stolen shirt, admiring my pecs. I rub my hands along my abs, and begin to formulate the next item I think I should have on my grocery list. Heavy rain beat down onto the back road as I drove the sound mixing with the gentle noise of the Prius’s engine. I watch the wet autumn country road pass by, ochre red leaves swirling in the storm. “So it begins…”
  14. First Chapter: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/1131-transformation-part-i-mutation-chapter-one/ Previous Chapter: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/12351-transformation-part-i-mutation-chapter-fourteen/ Author’s note: This is the final chapter of Part 1. Waaayyyyy late. As a reminder, the story takes place in 2011 with flashbacks to 2001. CHAPTER FIFTEEN The air was thick with nervous anticipation as the rumble of the low-flying passenger jet faded. I wondered if Manhattan had ever been so quiet. If it was maintaining the same direction we had observed, it flew south along Fifth Avenue. I wondered how long it would take it to reach 34th Street and then how long the sound of the feared impact would take to return to Sheep Meadow. I felt Matt looking at me and turned to face him. His face was completely white. “Now,” he said without emotion … and right on cue, echoing up the canyons of Fifth and Sixth Avenues, rolled the distorted, metallic and seemingly inevitable … BOOM. Cries. Shrieks. Disbelief. Confusion. Already I have failed to protect them. I watched as the vast and closely packed mass of people grew restless. Some turned to me, I assumed for direction or to see how I would respond. Others were pushing toward the east, presumably to look southward on Fifth for visual confirmation of what we all feared. Matt was furiously poking at his iPhone. I still had no idea what to do and looked at Hank. “If they start to panic, you gotta shut ‘em down,” he said as if sensing my need for direction. “People will get trampled,” I said. He nodded slowly. “You worried ‘bout that?” His question almost hurt. “Of course I am,” I said defensively. “I’m probably the most compassionate person you know.” “Not when that switch flips in your head.” He was right but I had no answer for him. I ignored his observation and had decided to make my way over to Fifth Avenue when Matt announced what everyone had most feared. His face twisted with desperation, he held up his iPhone so that I could see the screen and looked at me. “It hit the Empire State Building.” Thousands of voices filled the air as people began shoving in all directions. …the air filled with screams and shrieks. A woman very near me was yelling “Oh my god! Oh my god!” repeatedly. I felt the ground vibrate and turned my head to the left in time to see the South Tower collapsing in on itself with a thunderous roar. I stared at it, eyes wide, refusing to believe what I was seeing. As it fell it transformed into an immense cloud of billowing dust and debris that expanded rapidly in our direction. I could see the leading edge of a roiling tsunami of debris rushing toward me yet I remained locked in place, frozen like a deer caught in headlights. Two people fleeing the angry cloud bumped into me before Hank seized my hand… Although I wasn’t moving, I realized that I was panicking as well. “Jamal,” Hank prodded. “NOW.” I took a deep breath as I raised my tremendous arms toward the sky. “YOU WILL STOP AND REMAIN CALM!” I bellowed as loudly as I thought those near me could bear. Then as quickly as the cacophony of voices began, it faded. The crowd was still. And the rumble of an approaching jet drifted down from the north. Not fucking again. “YOU WILL CALMLY RETURN TO YOUR HOMES,” I ordered before turning back to Hank and Matt. “Except you two.” Once again, everyone seemed to obey me, although mindfully rather than as the zombies they had appeared to be earlier. People were again moving in all directions, but now in an orderly and deliberate manner. Despite their obedience, I was extremely frustrated. “All this power and I can’t do shit to stop an airplane,” I complained. “Have you tried flying?” Hank asked. I scowled. “Do I look like Superman?” “You look like you could totally kick his ass.” “I can’t fly, Hank.” I looked at Matt, whose expression became thoughtful. “Have you tried?” he asked. As ridiculous as it sounded, I had to admit that I hadn’t tried, so I squatted down on the turf and extending my legs with all my might, thrust upward with the hope of launching myself into the air. Instead, my feet plowed down into the earth with such force that a huge cloud of dirt and grass erupted skyward and outward. I rose maybe fifty feet into the air and then slammed into the ground again as the cloud of dirt rained down around me. I found myself face down in a crater of my own making. “I guess that settles that,” I said. I pushed myself up and looked around. Both Hank and Matt were covered with dirt. The roar of the jet grew closer. “What kind of god are you, anyway?” Hank asked impatiently as he brushed himself off with his uninjured hand. “A god that can’t fly,” I said as I climbed to my feet. The approaching jet grew louder. I looked at my loyal companions. Suddenly, I knew what to do. “Stay here, I’ll be right back,” I told them. “Hank needs medical attention,” Matt said. “We’ll catch up with you later.” I briefly froze, ashamed and angry with myself for forgetting about Hank’s right hand. They were already turning away from me. “Wait!” I said. They turned back to face me. “If Terry is right, my cum should heal your hand.” “There’s no time!” Matt called out. “Deal with that plane and we’ll meet you at home!” “Let’s find Terry,” Hank suggested as they disappeared into the crowd. I sprang into action. Thrusting a bit more carefully with only my left leg, I leapt toward Central Park West. If I couldn’t fly, I could at least cover the few hundred yards to the avenue very rapidly. Right, left, right, left. In a matter of seconds, I reached the street, which was backed up southbound as far as I could see, and found a vehicle that would do. A heavy tow truck sat trapped in traffic in the left-hand lane. I bolted for the cab, pulled the door off and dropped it. “Sorry, I need to borrow your truck,” I said to the slack-jawed driver as I reached in and pulled him from his seat. The jet roared overhead at perhaps a thousand feet as I set him down. There was no doubt. It was heading directly toward the World Trade Center. “Please stand back,” I warned as I tilted the vehicle onto its right wheels just enough to reach the undercarriage. Seizing the frame, I lifted the truck overhead and tilted it back until I could see the jet. Carefully, for I didn’t want to apply so much force to the frame that the truck would tear itself apart, I placed one foot well ahead of the other, stretched my arms back as far as I could without falling backward, and hurled it toward the rapidly disappearing jet with all my might. The sound and force of the sonic boom created by the truck’s rapid acceleration took me by surprise and I instinctively winced as windows in all directions shattered. The asphalt beneath me also shattered and deformed as the power of my throw drove my bare feet several inches back and down into the pavement. I looked up and to the south to see the truck quickly overtake the jet. It slammed into the starboard engine, most of which tore free from the wing in an explosion of ignited fuel. A rain of machinery, large and small, fell across what must have been Hell’s Kitchen. What did I just do? What if this was a coincidence? What if its flight path was totally innocent? The new tower isn’t even to full height yet, why would it be a target? I wished Matt were with me. Somehow, he would know. The jet was beginning to veer toward the west when it disappeared behind the buildings to the south. The now familiar feeling of helplessness returned. I had no idea what I was doing. I had no idea what to do next. I was in no way prepared to lead or protect anyone. Car alarms were going off right and left. The wail of sirens pierced the air. I looked around. I was standing in the middle of the street, buck naked, with my flaccid penis hanging down to my knees. Even with my feet driven six or so inches into the pavement, I was at least seven feet tall and towered over most of the people who had gathered around me. To my relief, they weren’t being submissive. Though certainly in awe of me, they were also shocked and curious. It was the truck driver who spoke first. “Wha … what was that?” He said. “I thought that plane was heading for the World Trade Center,” I explained. “I wanted to take it down.” “You threw that tow truck like it was a baseball, man!” A teenage boy said. “You’re like Superman but super swole!” I stepped out of the hole I had made in the street. Everyone backed away a few steps. A few did fall to their knees. “It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt anyone.” At least not intentionally. “I’m here to….” I hesitated, uncertain of what to say. I’m here to rule the world? I’m here to clean up the mess we’ve made? “I’m here to protect you. Protect the Earth.” “Like Superman!” The teenager said excitedly. I furrowed my brow. “I can’t fly,” I said as if it were a failing. The situation was very surreal. I was having an almost casual conversation with a group of strangers. No one was worshipping, as they had been only moments earlier. Most weren’t bowing down before me in deference as they had been all week. They were simply acting like … people. Although I did enjoy being worshipped, at least at times, I realized that I didn’t expect or need it. I found I liked this dynamic much better. “Who are you?” A male voice asked. Then everyone was speaking, both talking amongst themselves and asking me questions. “What are you?” I heard a different man ask. “You’re the guy everyone has been talking about,” a woman this time. “The muscle guy on YouTube!” “Damn, he’s even bigger now.” “The Empire State Building has been hit by a plane!” I heard a woman scream. “He keeps growing.” “Check out his dick man! Talk about the dick of death!” I looked around me again. So many people were talking and gathering and gawking that I couldn’t make out what they were saying. This wasn’t getting anyone anywhere. I held up my arms. “Everyone!” I said. The crowd fell silent. “I want you all to go home and wait for instructions from the city. There could be more attacks.” And I’m going to do my best to stop them. They may not have been worshipping me, but they were completely obedient. As the crowd dispersed, I considered running down to 34th Street to see if I could help. Then I stopped in the middle of the traffic-snarled street and looked down. My massive chest filled my vision, blocking my view of the rest of me below it. My cock was soft, hanging, nestled in front of my giant quads where I couldn’t see it. I looked back up and blinked. Somehow, for the first time in a week, I felt completely at home in my radically changed body, as if I were just Jamal. “One thing has ended,” I said softly. “And something new begins.” Late afternoon had given way to evening. Hank kept hold of my hand as we continued down West Broadway toward Ground Zero. I didn’t understand why. He had never wanted to hold hands when we were together. Of course, I was holding his hand as well and I didn’t know why I was doing that either. It felt nice. I still loved him. I missed him. It was an odd form of torture. I assumed that he was taking me down town to Church and Barclay, where we had first met, where we saw the south tower fall, where our journey together had begun, in some misguided attempt to observe our anniversary, such as it was. I hadn’t been this close to the World Trade Center site since that day and as we approached, my anxiety grew. It was more than the location of thousands of lost and destroyed lives. It was the scar left by religious fanatics – terrorists. It was a demonstration of the danger of radicalization. It was yet another example of the horrors that we as humans are capable of. We stood at the crosswalk across Chambers and waited for the light to change. I felt as if we had entered some kind of negative energy field of anger and grief, vengeance and hate, and worst of all, failure. My failure. I didn’t want to go closer. My palms grew sweaty. I could feel Hank staring at me. He tapped my forehead gently. “What’s goin’ on in there?” he asked. “What’s wrong?” “This is really hard,” I said. “Being so close. It makes me … I don’t know … I guess I’m scared.” “Scared,” he said doubtfully. “You climb around on I-beams like a monkey all day while hundreds of feet in the air and you’re scared.” I didn’t reply. The light changed. Hank continued holding my hand as we walked the few remaining blocks to our destination. He stopped in front of a parking garage. The parking garage. I was angry and confused. I had almost died here. Karen had died here. “This is it,” he said. My temper flared. “Why are we here?” I said crossly. “Why…” But Hank put his finger over my mouth. “Shhhhhhhhh,” he said gently. “It’s okay. I brought you here to thank you.” I looked inside the brightly lit entrance to where I had carried Karen, where we had been found. “Thank me for what?” “You’re wrong, Jamal. You didn’t fail Karen. You helped her,” his voice broke and his eyes glistened with gathering tears. “You found her injured and scared and brought her here. What was the last thing she said to you?” I remembered it so clearly. I felt her kiss me on the cheek. “Thank you,” she managed to whisper in my ear... “Thank you,” I said, looking down at the sidewalk. “She said, ‘thank you.’” “Yeah. Exactly. You rescued her and made her feel safe. She fell asleep and died feeling safe.” Tears were streaming down his face. I had never seen Hank cry before and I suddenly felt very selfish for blaming myself for so long. He smiled through the tears. “So I wanna thank you too,” he said as he continued looking into my eyes. I was at a loss for a moment but before my throat tightened too much, I managed to croak “you’re welcome.” Then I was on all fours, draining a year’s worth of pain onto the indifferent concrete in the form of heavy tears. * * * A few hours and several drinks later, Hank and I stumbled out of an upscale bar on West Houston Street and into the night. Traffic on the one-way street was light but the sidewalks were alive with a surprising number of pedestrians. We headed back to my flat. He had his huge arm around my shoulders as we walked, oblivious to the wake we created as people were forced around us. “Thanks for doing this today,” I said. “I feel a lot better.” Hank smiled and looked at me. “One thing’s ended,” he slurred. “An’ somethin’ new begins.” I didn’t know what the future held for us, but I was confident that we could at least be friends. Most importantly, I felt optimistic for the first time in a year. I ran south on 10th Avenue as fast as I could without destroying everything in my path. Propelling myself down the middle of the street at highway speeds without colliding with oncoming cars or pedestrians in crosswalks was challenging, but so far, I’d managed to run several blocks without causing any serious damage. I quickly learned just how much force to apply with my legs to leap over a car versus a truck or bus. Someone with a radio had reported that a plane had crash-landed near the Pier 51 playground and fallen into the river. I knew exactly where the playground was. It was only blocks from my apartment. As I raced down the avenue through Hell’s Kitchen, I again second-guessed my actions. The new tower was designed and built to survive the impact of a jumbo jet. Any damage caused by ramming an airliner into the building would be limited. I knew guys who were working on it. I had worked with many of them before. Some were second or third generation ironworkers whose fathers had built the Twin Towers or even whose grandfathers had built the Empire State Building. In fact, I didn’t apply to work on the project because I didn’t want to displace a man who had earned the right to place and connect those I-beams. It was sacred. And though I didn’t participate, I was familiar with its design and it would take much more than an aircraft impact to bring that building down. Of course, 1WTC wasn’t the only possible target. It was certainly the most symbolic, but perhaps the terrorists had set their sights on another building. Or perhaps it was something else that I hadn’t considered. Or perhaps there wasn’t another target at all. Had I saved a skyscraper from destruction at the hands of terrorists or knocked an aircraft with hundreds of innocent passengers out of the sky for no reason? I raced by the location of the Hudson train yard and by the time I had left it far behind, I became convinced that I had overreacted. But then I was there. The Meatpacking District. Gansevoort Street. An American Airlines 777 that was halfway into the river nose first. The pilot had tried to land on the highway, but in the process took out a few cars, traffic lights, trees, and streetlights as it slid partially into the river. Traffic was backed up in all directions and a growing crowd of people was gathering in a semi-circle starting around 100 feet away from the aircraft’s tail. No emergency vehicles had arrived yet. There probably weren’t any available. I leapt over the crowd so that I was between them and the jet and turned to face the now even-more-shocked faces. “I NEED EVERYONE TO BACK AWAY,” I announced in what Matt had called my “god voice” before turning to face the jet and evaluate the situation. Most of the starboard engine was missing of course, but surprisingly, at least to me, there was no fuel leaking from the wing nor was there any sign of fire. Equally strange was that all of the exit doors remained closed. The passengers weren’t being evacuated. But answers to those mysteries would have to wait until I got it out of the water. The nose of the aircraft was mostly submerged, the tail far overhead and out of my reach. I needed to pull it out by the rear landing gear, preferably both sets at the same time. If only I had an extra heavy chain… And there it was – to my right, along the edge of the sanitation department’s pier, was a chain of massive iron links. It was perhaps 50 yards long and threaded through a long line of steel posts. In no time I had pulled it free of the posts and snapped it in half. Wrapping one end of each segment around the two landing gear struts, I twisted the foot-long links together with my hands, essentially welding the loops closed. Only a few minutes after my arrival, I had the free ends of the two chains in my hands and was pulling them taut. The aircraft groaned. The pressure of my feet against the concrete pavement caused it to fracture. I slowly pulled it backward and as the aircraft began to move, I wondered how much weight I was dealing with. Each of the two chains must have been several tons, and the aircraft itself? Hundreds of tons? But its weight wasn’t important, for even as the fuselage of the jet dragged against the concrete and the nose lifted out of the water, even as the front landing strut snapped off as it encountered the edge of the embankment, I barely noticed any resistance at all. It was like pulling my little red wagon as a child when it was empty – effortless. I had just sprinted a few miles in minutes. I was filled with anxiety and guilt. I should have been awash in sweat and adrenaline but was not. My heart, or whatever was pulsing in my chest, did so calmly and slowly. My body had transformed into something seemingly indestructible, but my mind was as human as ever. The jet was completely out of the water. Stripped of its front landing gear, the nose of the aircraft rested on the embankment. I leapt up onto the starboard wing and sinking my fingers into the aluminum skin of the cabin, pulled one of the doors free and tossed it aside. My eyes adjusted instantly as I peered inside. The aircraft was empty. There were no passengers. There were not even any seats. Instead, two rows of large unmarked boxes, each a cube perhaps 6 feet in all three dimensions, stretched down the center from front to back for roughly half the length of the fuselage. I stepped all the way in and turned to the right with the intention of checking the cockpit. What looked like four parachute packs hung in the cabin a short distance away. “Freeze!” A male voice barked from behind. “Do not move!” I turned around. “I said DO NOT MOVE!” There were two men in dark blue military uniforms that I didn’t recognize, each with what appeared to be an automatic weapon trained on me. They were perhaps 50 feet away and wore masks of some kind. I couldn’t see their faces, but their skin was white. I briefly wondered if their weapons could harm me but it seemed unlikely. “Are you the pilots?” I said. “What’s in these…” “SHUT UP!” The man on the right, presumably the one in charge, yelled. “Do not move!” he repeated. I found myself wishing I knew how to control my ability to force submission but I could no more consciously turn it on as I could turn it off. I began walking toward them. “FREEZE!” The lead barked again. “One more step and I’ll fire!” “No!” his companion whispered in earnest. “You’ll kill us both.” Both men sounded as American as I or Hank or Matt. I paused for a moment. Something was very wrong. The aircraft was painted in the livery of American Airlines, yet the interior was completely generic. No logos, no flags, no markings of any kind. The men’s uniforms were equally generic and devoid of insignia. I listened as they continued to talk in what they believed to be tones I could not hear. If anyone else were standing at this distance they would have been correct, but I could understand them perfectly. Though impatient, I remained still as ordered. “Whoever this freak is just pulled this aircraft out of the river single-handedly,” the lead said. “We have to neutralize him or get him off this jet.” “What if the bullets bounce off of him and detonate the cargo?” The other man asked. Detonate the cargo? The lead scoffed. “Are you an idiot?” He looked at me. “Step out onto the wing,” he ordered, but I had run out of patience. “How about you put your toys down,” I said as I resumed walking toward them. The lead man immediately fired dozens of rounds from his weapon, which hit my chest and except for a few that somehow lodged in my chest hair, indeed did bounce off in various directions. As I drew nearer though, his hands began shaking and he dropped to his knees without a word. “That’s better,” I said calmly as I continued to approach. “Now tell me about your mission.” Then, in a moment of unexpected self-control, he turned his gun toward one of the cargo containers to my right and fired into it. At the same time, his subordinate, who had fallen next to him, cried “NO!” as he tried to reach for the weapon. But it was too late. The echo of his plea had not even diminished when the container exploded. The last thing I saw as the force of the blast propelled me toward the vaporizing fuselage and into the early afternoon sun was the detonation of the surrounding containers. * * * The sound and sensation of water flowing around me nudged me to consciousness and I opened my eyes. I was on my back in the fountain in Austin J. Tobin Plaza, gazing up at the vertically striped white towers of the World Trade Center, which soared forever upward into a deep blue sky – the South Tower to my left, the North Tower to my right. The cool water from the fountain ran gently around my shoulders and arms. I remained there for some time, staring into the cloudless sky. I could hear only the wind and water, feel only the sun, breeze, and gentle current. I couldn’t remember feeling so relaxed. There were no voices, no sounds of traffic, no airplanes… “Jamal!” Hank’s voice called. No airplanes. I bolted upright, my heart pounding against my ribcage. “Jamal!” Hank called again. “You hafta stop the plane!” I leapt to my feet and quickly surveyed the plaza. It was completely empty. No one was in sight. “Hank?” I called out. I felt a tap on my right shoulder and spun around to face the fountain. Hank was standing directly in front of me, looking exactly as he had when we met. The wind was at my back and blew around me, lifting his long, copper hair as if he were facing into a fan. I looked up into his eyes, which were unusually large and smoky again. “Where did you come from?” I asked, completely confused. He was his 2001 self, as was I. Hank didn’t speak but instead pointed toward the sky. I looked up, following his gesture just as a white aircraft passed above the Twin Towers and exploded, generating a blinding flash of heat and light. “There’s one more jet,” Hank said, as a rapidly expanding fireball enveloped the towers and raced toward us. “You have to stop it or everyone will die.” “What?” I asked, even more confused. “Flex, Jamal,” he said. “Flex everything! NOW!” * * * Several, perhaps dozens of tons of whatever material had been in the cargo containers, were exploding and in that instant, I realized that my sense of time had changed. Everything appeared to move in slow motion. As I drifted up and away from the rapidly evaporating jet, I could somehow see each container erupt and disintegrate, the individual blasts expand outward at enormous yet easily traceable speeds, even as I was enveloped in a maelstrom of flame and intersecting shockwaves. I was perhaps 100 yards away from where I had been standing on the plane. The fireball was probably 300 yards in diameter. Flex, Hank had said. So, I did. I flexed my arms and my traps and my pecs, my lats and my abs and my glutes, my quads and my hamstrings and my calves. I flexed everything, squeezing as hard as I could, for I knew why I was doing it. The only way to stop the explosion was to absorb it. * * * I felt a torrent of water gushing against my back and opened my eyes. I was on my back, looking at a partly-cloudy afternoon sky. Immediately to my right, a damaged fire hydrant lay on its side. I had landed on it and taken it out. There’s one more jet. Everyone will die, Hank said. I sprang to my feet and briefly surveyed my surroundings. I was again taller, which meant I was again bigger and stronger, but despite the resulting twitch of my cock I pushed that from my mind. I had something larger than my growing cock to deal with. I was near Gansevoort and Tenth Avenue. Across the street toward the river, nothing remained of the aircraft. The facades of the buildings facing the Hudson were scorched, but apart from that the damage seemed limited to shattered windows. People were likely killed or injured in the blast before I was able to absorb it, but I couldn’t help them. I had to figure out how to stop another aircraft without killing more people. Somehow, I needed to reach it. I could run to the West 30th Street heliport and hope that a helicopter and pilot were available, but that didn’t seem workable. At best, the jet pilot would only avoid the helicopter. If I can throw a tow truck a few thousand feet I can certainly jump high enough to reach a low-flying aircraft. That was the answer. I just needed a solid enough surface to leap from in a central location. Rat Rock. I had to return to Central Park. This time, I ran up Eighth Avenue, soaring between the US Post Office and Penn Station. What did Hank mean, everyone will die? Everyone on the aircraft? Everyone in the target building? Everyone in lower Manhattan? I felt ineffectual, lost. I had become so accustomed to having Hank and Matt around, so dependent on their insight and advice, that I felt incomplete without them. I tried not to imagine the scene at the Empire State Building. For now, I pushed my friends from my mind. It might be difficult for me to find them, but I knew how to make it easy for them to find me. At roughly one block per stride, it took only a few minutes for me to cover the distance to Columbus Circle. The streets of Manhattan, at least south of the park, seemed to be gridlocked. A logjam of buses, cars, and trucks surrounded the monument to Christopher Columbus, filling the roundabout. I leapt to avoid them… …and landed atop Rat Rock, a roughly circular outcropping of schist 50 or 60 feet in diameter and twice my height, shattering a thin layer of the gray stone around my feet. No one seemed to be around, and I began to scan the sky, relaxing my eyes so that I could see through the trees and surrounding buildings. The X-ray-like, false color view of the universe returned, revealing a storm of color and patterns that I had no idea how to interpret. I spent a few minutes changing the focus of my eyes, wondering if I could consciously determine which wavelengths I could detect, to see if I could filter out what I didn’t need at the moment. A few objects moved in slow, steady arcs around me. Satellites, I assumed. Most everything else seemed to be stationary until an object approaching from the west caught my attention. Something that was glowing with a harsh blue-white light like the reactors at the Indian Point power plant. Was this the plane that Hank had warned me of or a missile with a nuclear warhead? I couldn’t determine its speed or distance or angle of approach, but it seemed at least a few minutes away. I continued to focus on the approaching object. I tried to zoom in, Steve Austin-like, without luck. I tried examining the radiation source at varying frequencies mostly because it gave me something to do. Then something slammed into my back and exploded. The force of the impact and explosion thrust me forward into a group of trees and I landed on the ground face down. As I climbed to my feet again, a projectile from the opposite direction hit my chest and exploded. And another. And another. “GOD DAMMIT THIS ISN’T A GOOD TIME!” I roared. The grove of trees was in flames as I stood and began searching the sky again, trying to get my bearings. There were now multiple objects moving in the afternoon sky. Several small aircraft circled my location. I could see through the trees and flames and smoke that they were unmanned drones, which might have been helpful except that they were a bit late and targeting the wrong thing. I counted four, a few hundred feet overhead. Then I found the blue-white light of the radiation source. It was close enough for me to see that it was clearly a jet aircraft. I remained at the center of the fire, tracking my target as it approached. It seemed the drones couldn’t get a fix on me while I was engulfed in flames. I would wait as long as I could before I jumped back onto Rat Rock and launched myself at the air. Or would the presence of the drones cause the jet to change course? I hopped back onto the rock outcropping and snapped off a small boulder. The drones immediately changed their courses as I broke the boulder into smaller chunks and began hurling them at the unmanned aircraft. Four direct hits sent them falling to the ground. I felt oddly pleased with myself. At least there was no doubt about my aim. I could now clearly see and hear the approaching jet. It was higher than the others, maybe at 2000 feet, and though it had begun banking to the right, would still pass close enough that I was certain I could reach it. Nearby, the trees continued to burn. I wondered if I could blow them out and began to inhale. For around 30 seconds, I drew air into my lungs. When I felt like I had enough, I turned toward the trees and blew as hard as I could, as if they were candles on a birthday cake. Naturally, I flew backward off the rock and landed in the sand of the Hecksher Playground. I sighed and again climbed to my feet, but at least the fire was out. You’re clumsy, but not completely useless after all, I thought to myself. Nearly an hour must have passed since the Empire State Building had been hit, but other than the drone swarm, which was clearly targeting me, there had been no response from the military. What the hell is going on? Where are our fighter jets? Then I heard the sound of dozens of boots approaching from multiple directions. In seconds I was surrounded by what seemed to be military troops of some kind at a distance of perhaps 50 feet. They had already taken aim. “Jamal Al-Bakri,” an authoritative male voice called out. “You will surrender and come with us. Cooperate or we will fire.” “What?” I said, incredulous. “We don’t have time for this. There’s a third jet…” I looked into the early afternoon sun and pointed. “RIGHT THERE! I believe this one is carrying a nuclear weapon. Now stand aside so I can stop it.” I hopped back onto Rat Rack and was squatting down when I heard the man call “fire!” and I was showered with bullets. I rolled my eyes and stood. “YOU WILL CEASE FIRING.” I commanded. But incredibly, nothing changed. Scores of bullets bounced off of me but also continued to collect in the hair covering my immense pectorals. Some lodged in my beard. I pulled at one and noticed that it had actually wrapped itself around a single thick black hair. I pulled it off, popped it into my mouth, and swallowed. The hair remained attached to my skin. I hopped down and began to walk forward. Occasionally a few of the bullets would strike my penis. They felt good. They feel good, I could do this all day. My cock began to grow and harden. The magnificent beast was awake. I brought my hands up, my epic, bulging forearms, biceps, and pecs competing for space, and began to crush the thickening layer of ammunition against the impossibly massive, striated muscle of my chest, melting and spreading it across the expanse of my pecs, feeling how much broader and thicker they had become, then down my deeply separated eight-pack to my cock, which was now fully erect. It pounded, throbbing visibly as I covered it with molten steel and lead, squeezing it as hard as I could, the pleasure becoming so intense that for a moment I forgot where I was but not what – a being so powerful and masculine and glorious that all would beg to worship me. As my tremendous cock throbbed madly, thrusting nearly a yard before me, my loins burning for release, I brought my arms up, arms which could surely rend the planet in two, and flexed. I closed my eyes and reveled in the immeasurable power of my body, turning my face up to the sky, lost in bliss as my indestructible form was caressed by thousands of rounds of ammunition, which suddenly ceased. The echoes of dozens of automatic weapons faded, revealing only the whine of two jet engines. I opened my eyes to see every soldier silently weeping while either kneeling or bent forward, faces to the ground. Better. I looked up. The jet was about as close as it was going to get. It was also unmarked, at least as far as I could tell. Unlike the others, both of which were painted in the livery of American Airlines, this was simply a plain white twin engine passenger jet. I jumped back onto Rat Rock and quickly wiped most of the metal from my torso and cock. As I squatted down, I wondered how much force my enormous legs could generate. When I threw the wrecker, I simple hurled it as hard as I could. But I didn’t want to fly through the plane. I needed to reach it and stop. Grab hold and tear my way in perhaps. It was moving further away. I launched myself into the air. As I soared toward it, I did feel as if I were flying. The sensation of air rushing by at a few hundred miles per hour – against my skin, around my still-erect cock – was exhilarating. But I was a projectile, subject to the friction of air and the gravity of the Earth, unable to alter course. Still, I was rapidly approaching the aircraft and as I passed through the plume of smoke from the remains of the Empire State Building, I realized I had to somehow grasp the port wing as I passed it at roughly 50 mph. Time seemed to slow. I became aware of two things. One, I was going to miss by a few yards. I was going slightly too fast. Two, I could somehow see the turbulence of the air as the jet cut through it. I could also see the aircraft’s interior to some extent. The harsh blue-white glow of the uranium was near the center of aircraft, its radiation detectable through the casing. The jet was configured to carry cargo. Most of the interior was empty, while the cockpit appeared standard – at least to my layman’s eye – two seats, some equipment, and a door. But, it was empty. No one was flying the plane. I was closing in from below and of course from behind. I held out my arms to reduce my speed, alternately bringing them in and out a bit to fine tune my approach. The port engine was immediately to my right as I passed it – I could have reached out and touched it – but I waited until I could grab the wing’s leading edge. Although I could see the air being drawn into the engine, it was too late – I wasn’t able to adjust my speed to avoid being sucked in without missing the jet entirely. My legs were pulled into the engine fans, which shattered before the bulk of my upper legs and cock forced the engine shaft to stop spinning entirely. Jet fuel accumulated for a second or two – I recognized the smell – before exploding and then burning out. I climbed out of the damaged engine pod and clawed my way along the wing, digging my fingers into the aluminum to keep from being blown off. On reaching the fuselage, I simply tore my way into the cabin, which was dimly lit. The warhead was a cone well over a yard long, which was strapped vertically to a truss that ran from the floor of the cabin to the top. A cable ran from the cone up the truss to a box about a foot on each side with a keypad and a few controls. A digital LED displayed the number 10. As I looked around, I noticed several cameras. I was probably being watched, but of course, I had no idea how to disarm it or even if it were possible. I fantasized about flying it into space. Or maybe I can pilot the jet out over the ocean. I had turned and started toward the cockpit when I heard a quick, soft beep beep. I returned to the truss. The 10 on the control box was now 06 and continued to count down. Only seconds before I had been completely fearless. For all practical purposes I was infinitely strong and completely indestructible. But now I was terrified, and I pulled the cone free of its straps and wrapped myself around it, covering as much of its surface as I could. Hank was down there. Matt was down there. Terry. Carlos. Nearly everyone I cared about plus a million or so others were only a few thousand feet below me. 04 … 03 … maybe I could crush it? I leaned back so that the bulk of my body was between the ground and the warhead and began to squeeze, which collapsed the casing and… It began so small. A perfectly white sphere of plasma only a few yards in diameter replaced the warhead, which was instantaneously vaporized into ionized gas at 100 million degrees. A fraction of a second later, the entire aircraft had been vaporized. By the time I had begun flexing every muscle I could think of, a full second had passed and a fireball a few hundred yards wide had appeared over lower Manhattan with me suspended at its center. I flexed, reveling in the sensation of the enormous energy released by the weapon flowing into my titanic, growing muscles. I had noticed over the past few days that the hotter something was, the better it felt, the more pleasure I experienced. Having a nuclear weapon detonate immediately against my chest bathed me in ecstasy beyond comprehension and I could both see and feel my surging cock grow in both size and hardness, the pressure in my loins mounting to a degree greater even than that of the blast I was containing. I looked down at my unimaginably powerful pecs, watching as the thick black hair that covered them waved and floated in the inferno. One hundred million degrees and not even my hair was singed. I am truly indestructible. My huge cock and balls, stimulated beyond imagination by the extreme heat and pressure, growing and throbbing uncontrollably, unleashed my most powerful orgasm yet, and I aimed my cum cannon toward the sky as it spewed thousands of gallons through the raging inferno surrounding me, soaring up into the atmosphere for miles. I continued to flex as hard as I could, absorbing as much of the escaping heat and energy as possible, canceling out the pressure wave which would have destroyed much of Manhattan. I will become infinitely powerful. I knew this. Hank was right. The universe was creating its own god and the ecstasy this knowledge brought me was overwhelming. I was drunk with my own magnificence. I will have eternal and absolute dominance over all things. I will enslave this universe. A brief shudder of abject terror washed over me, penetrating my ecstasy. No. That is not what I want. But I could feel my consciousness shifting again. Jamal! It was Hank’s voice. “Hank?” Jamal, that’s not you. Hank’s voice was somehow clear through the thunderous roar of the firestorm. You’ve got to resist it. I could feel the pressure increase. Even as the feeling of dread swept through me, the desire to embrace a dark yet infinite pleasure mounted. “What do you mean?” I asked out loud. It wants you. DON’T LET IT IN. Hank said desperately. FIGHT IT! All I could sense was an intense need for conquest. A limitless hunger. Everything must be mastered and enslaved and drained. But that isn't who I am, I replied. * * * Earlier that day, in another place… There are things older than the universe. Ancient things from universes far older than our own or that no longer exist. It was one of those things. Its home universe collapsed a trillion years ago, but it had learned long before of methods to slip between the universes, to navigate from one universe to another. As long as a universe’s physical constants were compatible, it was able enter. For an eternity, it searched through a universe of universes, methodically, deliberately, conserving its energy, maintaining just enough awareness to test a target universe’s physics, just enough awareness to be. It had once enjoyed a seemingly endless torrent of energy drawn over tens of billions of years from all the stars, all the galaxies, all the life of its long-dead home, but its reserves dwindled as the eons passed, as it sought something that appeared increasingly unlikely. Millions of years would pass between finding compatible universes or universes with life, billions of years between finding universes that were compatible and held life, and thus far, a trillion years without finding a compatible universe with life that it could use. It was now barely a cloud of molecules, a fading wisp of organized information that knew little more than a tortured emptiness and an all-consuming hunger. A hunger that had been growing for countless billions of years. A hunger that finally, just as it had resigned itself to oblivion, detected a life form that it could use.
  15. tokkola

    Better Off Ted - Part 1

    Hi all, this is my first story - please let me know if you have any feedback, or if you want to see more. ----- I feel like I’d been staring at the monitor for hours. I traced out the equation on the screen with my pencil, then tapped the pencil’s eraser against my nose. Everything looked correct. I’d tested the formula on mice, run it through various computer simulations, and mapped out the worst-case scenario, over and over, for nearly a year. Since I was 15, I’d worked on my dream project, certain it would give me everything I wanted. “Ted! Are you coming to bed?”, Jenna asked. Jenna already knew the answer, but this was part of our nightly routine. She got in bed at 11, called for me at 11:30, I said “Five more minutes!”, and I worked on the computer until 2. But this time, I was done. I was sure of it. She wasn’t exactly sure what I was working on, but thought it was for work. Otherwise, why would I have three computers, two printers, a 3-D printer, and on and on in my office? It was most certainly not for work, of course. When I was 15, I’d gotten hooked on muscles. Having them, that is. Being huge. Going to the gym was boring, slow, and incredibly unsatisfying. But, ah, if there was a way to chemically force my body to grow muscle, then that would be the most efficient route. I didn’t really think stuff like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde was real, but maybe the human body just needed the instructions to induce actual drastic physical change. All you needed was software and something to power it. So I taught myself biology, chemistry, anatomy, biochemistry, DNA, physics, programming, etc. etc. – and actually netted myself a doctorate in the process. Now 27, I’d dedicated 12 years to this fantasy, but there was a nice side product – I might actually have a working formula. A formula produced a solution that jump-started a chemical process in the body that built muscle consistently and steadily, over time. With a daily dose every morning, I’d be a mass of muscle in just a few months. Computer simulations suggested it would work, but the mouse trials that produced big, aggressive, strong mice – that was really something. I had started shopping for speedos and man-thongs online, and found myself masturbating or forcing myself on Jenna constantly. She didn’t understand why I wanted to fuck at 2am, but I wouldn’t take no for an answer. I hit the switch on my computer to start synthesizing a dose for the morning, and headed to bed. I pulled the covers back, and climbed on top of Jenna. “Ted, come on - I have a big day tomorrow.” “I‘m finishing a big night right now.” She sighed and let me peel her pajama pants off. I pulled her panties aside, and pushed right in with no warning, pumping away. In anticipation of having the muscle to totally dominate her in a few months, I was a little rougher than usual, squeezing her shoulders, and her ass. “Ow! What is with you? I gave you some ass.” “Just loving my little Jenna.” She looked annoyed, but played along. --- The next morning, I got up an hour early just to down my dose. I had a little coffee machine-type device I’d rigged up years ago that could create any type of liquid concoction you might want from a variety of ingredients, liquid, powder, or what have you. I even had orange Gatorade added for flavor. I quickly picked up the dose – a small quarter cup of translucent green fluid – and swallowed it. It didn’t really have much of a taste – maybe a faint copper flavor. I immediately got an erection, but I chalked that up to excitement. For the next week, I took my morning dose, and found myself jerking off non-stop, and I even began jumping on Jenna as she came in the door. I peeled off her clothes at the front door and pounded her on the couch. During the week, I weighed myself, measured my body parts, and did visual checks, even taking nude selfies. I should have seen minor muscle growth evenly across my body, including penis growth (yes, I added that in). I’m a pretty average guy – 5’9, slender, but no real muscle tone. Dick … average? Around 6 inches or so, but I was going for a pussy-splitter. Something in the neighborhood of ten inches. I wanted to hit …. maybe 6’4, 6’5? And the body needed to be massive. Wide shoulders, big pecs, the whole thing. I had a computer layout of my body measurements and how to chart them until they hit world-class bodybuilder dimensions. But after doing measurements on day 7, I saw no changes. Nothing. After 7 whole days, I saw no difference whatsoever. Nada. I didn’t get discouraged; after all, some medications needed time to build up in your system before having an effect. Okay, maybe I was a little discouraged. No more constant hard-ons. Jenna was fine with this; she had started to get pissed whenever I started grabbing her ass or pulling at her clothes. “Oh, I get a night off? Great. Maybe you should lay off the porn. Or look at it more. The opposite of what you’ve been doing.” I didn’t even bother to respond – I was curious why I hadn’t seen any gains. The next morning, I took my dose downstairs, and dumped it into a glass of orange juice. I started to butter an English muffin, and reached for the glass, only to feel someone’s pajama pants. Jenna? I turned, and she was finishing my orange juice. “Sorry, chief. That was the last of the OJ, and you were supposed to buy more.” I stared, slack-jawed. “You know you were on grocery duty. Don’t give me that look.” I slammed down my knife. “God DAMMIT! That was fucking mine! What the fuck-“ She was taken aback, unsure why I was spazzing out over orange juice. I cut myself off mid-swear and marched upstairs. I checked to see how long it would take to synthesize another dose – 4 hours. I heard Jenna slam the front door as I hit the start button. --- When I got home that evening, I went straight to my office and gulped down the dose. Then I started making dinner. Jenna came in as I was boiling noodles. “So… what was this morning all about?”, she asked. “I was being a jerk and I have no excuse so I’m cooking dinner and hoping you’ll forgive me for orange juice,” I replied. “Are you feeling okay? You were all despondent last night. No computer work, no begging for sex, nothing. A girl starts to wonder if she still has her charms,” Jenna looked at me quizzically. “Oh, just stressed out about a timeline for work, and I was a giant baby about it to you.” I wasn’t being honest, but I couldn’t tell her the truth. The more I thought about it – I wondered… should I tell her? She drank a potentially body-altering chemical that could- no, she had one dose, and her body will dump it. If nothing happened to me in a week, nothing is going to happen to her. We watched a movie and snuggled on the couch before going to bed. The next morning, we both woke up together slightly early. Jenna felt around for my cock, and started stroking – that wasn’t like her. She was very much about her routine in the morning. Then again, we were up early. “Hey Ted. How’s little Ted? I mean, how’s Big Ted? Or Medium Ted? Does he even have a name?” Jenna reached inside my boxers. “Good morning to you too,” I offered. I put my hand under her shirt to touch her stomach. Jenna had a very average girl-next-door body, with no real muscle to speak of – but my hand was touching some… muscle? She was usually so soft, but this was firm. Jenna pulled her shirt off and mounted me, and we had a quick morning session before getting dressed. She certainly looked different. Just a little. Could the formula have affected her? As I got dressed, I looked at the morning’s dose. I took it downstairs, and dumped it into a glass of orange juice. Jenna came down right behind me. “Here, kiddo – have some juice,” I said, holding out my glass. “After yesterday? Nuh uh, I’ll just walk around outside with my mouth open until it rains,” she started to reach for the fridge. I put my hand on her shoulder. “As the man who was wrong and a giant man-baby and should apologize to his beautiful girlfriend much more than he does, I beg you to drink this peace offering.” I held the glass up like a fancy bauble to Indiana Jones. Jenna smiled and took the glass. I figured I could rig up another dose later that day; I needed to see if Jenna was actually benefitting from the formula. Over the next week, I kept up the orange juice gag – and it became a part of her routine. I had my dose in the afternoon, she in the morning. And, god damn it – she was growing. I noticed that her softness was giving way to more firmness, everywhere. Her shoulders seemed wider. Her hands seemed a little bigger. Her thighs, thicker. Her legs had always been fairly pencil-y, but she was starting to show tiny calves. Calves. Over the next 2 weeks, she grew – slowly, but surely, she was getting bigger. I, on the other hand, was exactly the same. I tried mixing my dosage with orange juice, I tried eating what Jenna ate, sleeping when she slept, everything she did. Nothing. I went back and checked the equations, reviewed my math, reviewed the science – I was back to staying up until 2am. My work was just fine. So what was the fucking problem? Later that night, I was jolted awake. “Ted?” I rubbed my eyes. Jenna had been patting my face harder and harder until I woke up. “Huh?” I made eye contact with Jenna. She turned on the lights, pulled the sheets back, and climbed on top of me. “Jenna, it’s…. what time is it?” She started to pull my boxers down, but I put my hand on her wrist to stop her. She didn’t even make eye contact as she swatted my hand away. We wrestled back and forth until she just reached through my fly and started beating me off. My cock responded to the attention, but I was getting mad. It had been… a month? I’d been trying this muscle experiment for a month after doing over a decade of research, and I had nothing to show for it. My girlfriend, all 5’5” slender build of her, was getting bigger. Growing muscle. Getting stronger. Getting more aggressive. Hornier. More dominant. Well, that was stopping. I tried to push her off, which only succeeded in pissing her off. “So when you want some ass, the store is always open. When I’m in the mood, the shop is closed? That’s how it is?” She was definitely pissed. “Jenna, I need sleep-“ I was not in the mood. I was about to get her off of me when she slapped me. It wasn’t hard, but enough to catch me off-guard. I expected her to storm off and sleep downstairs – but instead, she grabbed my cock, and inserted it into herself, and started going to town. Before I could start to protest, she already had my wrists held down, with her knees at my hips, pinning me in place. She leaned down and bit my lip to keep me from talking. --- The next morning was a Saturday, so I expected to sleep in. I found myself, however, being nudged by Jenna. “Ted, go get my orange juice. And breakfast.” Before I could argue, she reached into my boxers, and started fondling my dick. I was awake now. I took the morning dose down with me, and dumped it into a glass of orange juice as I got some English muffins ready. Wait, what was I doing? I just told myself I was cutting her off. I stared at the glass of juice. “Ted! What’s the ETA on that juice?” I supposed, at this point, I should keep the trial going, and see how she progresses. Right? Plus, the sex was great, and I had time to see what was wrong with my formula. I took the food and drink upstairs. She downed them right away. “Oh, that’s it? I was thinking maybe some fruit, too.” She did the puppy dog eyes. “Yeah, maybe – I’d have to go out.” “Great. I need to eat better for the next few days for my physical next week.” She started to adjust her pajama shirt. “Then again, I’ve been feeling great lately, and my yoga class on Wednesday is really paying off. I’m seeing some muscles pop up.” Physical? What physical? That might be a problem – she might have elevated testosterone levels. Was this for work? Hmmm. Interestingly enough, this is the first time she’d acknowledged her body’s changes. “What physical?” I asked. “Oh, that once-a-year thing at work where they do blood pressure and bloodwork to raise awareness about … I’m not sure. But everyone skips junk food for a week. Why?” She didn’t make eye contact – she was too busy rubbing her hand back and forth across her newly-appeared ab muscles, which she just seemed to have discovered. I shrugged as I realized I was getting hard watching her explore her new body. “How ‘bout that fruit, champ?” --- As I browsed the Safeway for … fruit, I thought over the formula in my head. Maybe Jenna was exposed to something at work. Maybe something in my genes was blocking the chemical reaction. I wasn’t on medication, and neither was Jenna, except birth control. But now, this physical, that was a problem. Could it get her fired? Maybe I should tell her. Up until now, this whole thing had been… unethical, at best. What had I done? I came in with two big paper bags full of enough fruit to fill a grocery cart. Jenna was waiting in the kitchen, and started eating the bananas. “Jenna, can we talk?” “Sure. Is this about more fruit in the car?” “No. This is about your physical.” She didn’t make eye contact. She’d fit the entire banana in her mouth, and was rummaging through the bag until she got a peach. “You may have something in your system that might come back on a blood test,” I started. “I don’t think your jizz will come back on a blood test,” she said, pulling an apple out of the bag. “No, not that. A few weeks ago, you drank my orange juice, and I got upset… because I’d put some medication in there for me,” I was looking at the ground. “Well, if it was a one-time thing, I’m sure it’s out of my system, but now I know why you blew up over juice, so hey,” she nodded to the side. “It wasn’t medicine. It was an experimental… drug. For me. To build muscle automatically. And I’d been taking it, and still am, with no success. But you grew muscle right away, and you’ve been on it for the last month. And that’s why you have abs and muscle, and why your pants don’t really fit. And why you’re hornier.” I looked up. She was looking right at me with a blank stare. She put the finished apple on the counter. “Excuse me?” she asked. I shrugged. “It was wrong, and I’m sorry, but … I had to see if it wor-“ I never finished the sentence. Jenna had balled up her hand into a fist, and driven it into my cheek. I went to the floor. “What the… FUCK…. is the matter with you? I could be eating poison. I could have cancer. What the … shit?!” She ran upstairs. I could tell she was pulling a suitcase out of the closet and stuffing it. She came down the stairs a few minutes later, with a half-zipped rolling suitcase, a shirt poking out. I tried to block her path to the front door, and it became another fight like last night. Again, I thought I had my foot down firm, and was sure I wasn’t budging; we pushed back and forth until she shoved me aside. I tried to grab her arm, but she just swung wildly with her fists, landing a few punches on my shoulder and back. I tried to pick her up, when I felt my feet leave the floor – she had picked me up! She flung me to the side, and stormed out the door. That went about as badly as it could have, I guessed. I cleaned up the furniture we’d knocked over, and put a bag of frozen peas on my cheek. I couldn’t tell if it was going to bruise. I tried calling Jenna’s phone. Straight to voicemail. I spent the rest of the day sitting on the couch, staring at the TV, which I didn’t bother to turn on. I still took my afternoon dose. I went to bed at 11, and looked out the window for any sign of Jenna. I thought about driving around to friends’ houses, hotels, or who knows what, but I was pretty sure she didn’t want to see me. --- I was jolted awake by someone rubbing my shoulder. “Huh? I turned on the light by the bed. It was Jenna. “I understand why you did it.” She took off her clothes except for her underwear and bra, and climbed into bed, spooning me as the big spoon. I had no idea what to say. An hour later, she woke me up again by grabbing my cock, lightly slapping my cheek. “Let’s go, mama needs.” “Huh?” I was so out of it and confused. She didn’t wait for an answer. She held one hand on my chest while she worked my cock with the other. As soon as I was hard (it didn’t take long), she started pounding away. “I want you to keep giving me the drug.” "But I thought you-“ she held her hand over my mouth. --- Over the next two weeks, I kept up the drug for both of us, with only her seeing results. She started to show real muscle definition, especially in her quads and back. Her energy levels kept going up – she started jogging in the evening, just to burn off her excess energy. We had sex as soon as she got back, and again in the middle of the night, every night. She had me order a cock sheath online just as a back-up in case I was ever too tired to fuck. She also had me get Viagra, dildos, and so on and so on. The evening sex was very much a relationship-type couple fuck session – but the middle of the night was not. As time went on, she got bigger and stronger, and the sex got rougher and more painful. Every morning I found new bruises in the mirror, mostly on my shoulders and waist. I had some big ones on my ass where she squeezed me too hard. Once, she bit my tongue too hard – as I started to make a noise, she clamped her mouth over mine, and squeezed my shoulder like her hand was a pincer, giving me worse pain somewhere else as a distraction. The night sex was clearly all Jenna taking control. I was, at this point, a dildo named Ted. I enjoyed it, except for the bruises and stuff in the morning. We had reached the point where I could no longer physically stop Jenna from doing what she wanted; fighting her just meant more bruises, possibly on the face. It was just easier to give in. In the meantime, I hadn’t discovered why the formula wasn’t working for me. I was ready to start testing the coffee or something at Jenna’s office. As for her physical, Jenna simply called out sick that day. Jenna was, under her clothes, ripped. Her work clothes pretty much hid everything. She had thick arms and her thighs stuck out. Chun-Li would’ve been impressed. She ate like a high school football player, and had become mostly impatient and demanding. Most of our interaction that wasn’t about sex or food involved her giving me commands by placing her hand(s) on my shoulder or ass to push me in the desired direction. I had started taking a daily regimen of aspirin to cope with the sore back, hips, shoulder, neck, and legs. I felt like I’d just crawled out of a car accident. Sex had become a writhing beating where Jenna pummeled me into the mattress. It was starting to become a painful chore. I’d realized that I couldn’t stop Jenna when she decided it was time to fuck. As we both got ready for the morning in the bathroom, she pushed me out of the way to use the toilet. Then she pulled me out of the shower so she could get in first. Then she shoved me aside so she could use the mirror. That’s when I realized she had gotten taller. She had been 5’5”, and I was 5’9” – but we were nearly even in height. Son of a bitch. I came downstairs for a Saturday morning cup of coffee. Jenna was at her laptop. “You didn’t get stuff for breakfast. No coffee for Ted until you come back with food.” she said without looking up. “After I have coffee,” I said as I walked into the kitchen. “Don’t make me repeat myself, Ted,” she said. I stopped. Should I joke my way out of it, or just ignore it? I opened the cupboard for a coffee cup. “Don’t fucking dare, Teddo. Grocery store,” she repeated. I ignored her and pulled out a red mug. She got up and I instinctively braced myself. She put her hand on my shoulder and started to pull. I couldn’t resist. She didn’t budge a millimeter when I tried to push her back. “You know the rules.” I tried to put a hand in her face, but that was slapped away, and followed with a firm slap to the cheek. I tried to swat at her hand, and was slapped again. She shoved the car keys into my mouth and clutched my junk. “You be a good Ted and come back with Jenna-food, and little Ted gets to play.” “Ted is tired and needs coffee,” I said as I pulled the keys out of my mouth. I tried to squirm out of her grasp, but she wasn’t having it. It was like trying to move the Statue of Liberty. “Look, if your muscle formula dealy worked on you, you could have coffee, but it didn’t, so you can’t. Go get food before I get pissed. Do you really want to ruin the weekend?” I did not. --- As I filled a shopping cart with food, I wondered if I could just cut her off. She’d probably notice the muscle loss, but wouldn’t be as aggressive. Was it worth the gamble? She was pretty smart, and she wouldn’t lose the muscle for a while. It would be a few months before I could physically defend myself. All the ‘what ifs’ went through my head: it was entirely possible the effects might be permanent. Taking her off the drug cold turkey might put her into withdrawal. She might get angry enough to break an arm. Or worse. When I went home, I decided the best plan was to talk. When I walked in the door, I heard her rummaging upstairs. I put the food away, and went up to talk. As I walked in the bedroom, I was treated to the sight of my overly muscled girlfriend abusing a giant blue dildo. I was dumbfounded. She finished and took a shower, ignoring me completely. When she got out, I tried again. “Jenna-“ “Ted bring food?!” she mimed gorilla-like movements. “Yes, but first, we should talk,” I started. “Okay…” “I think you can recognize that you’ve become bigger, much bigger, stronger, and more aggressive than the old Jenna. I’m a little concerned, because, well, you’re basically raping me every night, and treating me like a slave. I think we should try to wean you off the drug.” I waited for her reaction. She was still naked, but had no reaction. She pulled on a thong and a sports bra. Her breasts had grown, not to a ridiculous size, but definitely a large C, supported by growing pectorals. She pulled her hair back into a ponytail. “Ted, I think you’d admit I’m a girl of routine, and I’m pretty sharp. Yes?” she put her hands on her hips. “… yeah…” “Every morning, I meticulously weigh and measure myself, and have tracked a steady rate of growth. If that changes or stops, there will be trouble. I have never felt this good about myself, felt more in control, or felt more like a … a… I don’t know what. But a few months ago, you did whatever the hell you wanted, whenever you wanted, and I was fine with it. Now I’m in charge. I’m bigger, stronger, whatever. I get to eat, fuck, choose furniture, decide our bedtime, pick a TV show, choose our vacation, or whatever. I do. Me. I’m in charge. Me.” She took a step toward me. I realized she was between me and any sort of exit. Fuck. “I’m not saying you’re my bitch or slave or servant, or anything like that. But I’m in charge. Do you understand?” I nodded. “Good. What do you think will happen if I notice I stop growing?” I looked at the floor. “Do you need an idea of what will happen?” I didn’t answer. I started to feel hot all over, sweating. “Answer me, Ted.” I looked up. She was almost nose to nose with me. I realized, unfortunately, that she was slightly taller than me. Her shoulders were wider. Her arms had veins. Her forearms were thick with muscle. I knew if I moved even a little bit, she was going to swing at me, or something. “Um,” I was stalling. I couldn’t really run. She held my chin with her finger and thumb. “What do you think is going to happen if you screw me?” “You’d be upset.” “Yes, I would. What would I do to you?” “Probably hurt me.” “How would I do it?” “I don’t know.” “I am going to give you a sample.” I froze up and my stomach started to twist. She was going to cross a line, but I hadn’t done anything! She quickly shoved me up against the wall and punched the wall repeatedly, leaving a hole. My feet were off the floor. “You are going to keep me growing. If that changes, I will break something. Should I break something now as a warning?” I shook my head. “Good. You’re going to get back on your computer, and you’re going to stop looking for a way to grow Ted muscles, and instead, grow a bigger Ted dick. Do you understand?” I.. what? “Dick. Bigger. Grow one. Do you understand?” I nodded weakly. “Good. You have two weeks.” “Two weeks? I can’t-“ “Two weeks, Ted, or I break something. The first break will be something you can still work with, like the arm you don’t use. After that, I’ll start breaking stuff you need. Got it?” She let me slump to my knees and she stomped out of the bedroom and down the stairs, undoubtedly to forage for food. Jesus Christ, I hoped there was food downstairs. --- I took the next two weeks off from work to dedicate to the dick formula. But I also kept working on a muscle formula for me. Maybe I could come up with something that would work overnight, and I’d be able to overcome Jenna. Jenna had reached bodybuilder proportions. Like, stupid 80s steroid-sized proportions. People in public stared and made hushed comments. She was up to 6’1”, I think, and had Arnold-esque arms. She had broken the bedframe from sex, and we (well, she) placed the mattress on the floor. She had started hitting me during sex, usually slapping, and sometimes she squeezed me so hard from cumming that I nearly passed out from the pain. The last day of the two weeks had arrived, and I was no closer to finding a dick-growing solution. “You know, if this doesn’t come through, I’m going to have to find a better lay at the gym. You really can’t take it any more,” she gloated. That night, I stared at the computer screen. Nothing was wrong. So what was I missing? I decided to check my email when it hit me – this computer had an internet connection. I went through my logs to see what record there was of any external connections – sure enough, an IP I didn’t recognize popped up a few months ago. Son of a bitch… was I hacked? I started over from scratch, and redid my formula, working through the night, capturing a few things I could change to speed up my muscle growth, and seeing if anything had been changed. Sure enough, something in the code made an almost-unnoticeable change that altered the formula. Digging deeper, I realized it needed a special set of circumstances to work – basically, the formula would only work on a female. I hadn’t seen it before, I reasoned, because I was simply double-checking what I thought was my own work. God dammit. I unplugged the Ethernet cable and finished up. By the time Jenna woke up, the doses were being produced. “So you did it?” she asked? “Yeah, worked up until the deadline.” “Good for you and your little dick!” she exclaimed. I rolled my eyes. Once they were both ready, she downed her dose but stopped me from drinking mine. “First, we need a before and after.” She ripped my jeans in half and cupped my balls. She held out my cock and measured out the three soft inches. “How much are we going? Six inches added on? Eight?” she asked. I shrugged. “I didn’t have a chance to test it, but my math suggests about 5 to 8 inches. It shouldn’t take long.” I replied. “Good, because I can’t live on this nub anymore. Let’s get some photos,” she used her iPhone to take a few dick pictures. She clutched my cock in a death grip and tugged. “Let’s grow already!” She grabbed me by the throat and pushed me down to my knees. She squeezed my face to hold my mouth open and poured the dose in, then clamped her hand over my mouth. She fondled my cock, expecting the process to be automatic. “Well?” she looked at me skeptically. “I probably need food.” I choked out. She let me up, and I snacked on a few things. After an hour, nothing had happened. My heart dropped. Jenna held my junk in her hands and looked at the clock. “Looks like your new cock is a no-show. I guess I’m going to have to beat the shit out of you to teach you a lesson, then I’m going cock-shopping at the gym.” My stomach started to hurt, when I felt a cold rush moving down. Was I seriously going to shit myself in fear? I looked towards the bathroom, just a few feet away. “I gotta go!” I yelped. “Yeah, you’re going to go meet the nice folks at the ER.” She slapped me in the balls, and I doubled over in pain. She held my wrist in a pincer grip. “Get up. You can suck on my clit before I break your arm.” I tried to push her off and reach for the bathroom door, but she didn’t move. My entire body felt hot, then it felt like my back started to… peel. I wanted to scream, but couldn’t. Jenna let go of my wrist as I straightened out and stood up. Her face was all shock. “What the … fuck?” I caught my reflection in the microwave door glass. I was… huge? It worked! I was huge. HUGE! I realized I now had several inches in height on Jenna, and was much, much wider. Jenna was frozen in place. I made a show out of cracking my knuckles. My turn. I moved forward as Jenna tried what she’d gotten used to doing over the last several weeks: swinging at me. I easily caught her hands, and scooped her up in a bear hug. She writhed back and forth to try and get free, but I was too strong. I slowly squeezed as I walked up the stairs. I dropped her on the mattress. She looked unsure what to do as I ripped off what used to be a pair of shorts, letting out a painfully hard cock. She started to scoot backwards, but I grabbed her shoulders, and pulled her face-first towards my cock. She was able to take most of it, but I pulled her off, and held her down as I drove my dick into her unwilling pussy. I used my hips to pound her, payback for her angry sex with me. She tried to push me off with no success as I unloaded weeks’ worth of frustration. I let her punch me in the chest, but she might as well have been punching a brick wall. I felt myself ready to cum, and pulled out, pushing my cock head into her mouth as she struggled. She couldn’t pull away as I pumped round after round of jizz into her mouth. My cock reached the back of her throat, thick enough to give her no choice but to swallow the entire load. I wondered if I’d gone too far, but then, she grabbed my still-hard cock. She was actually enjoying it. She pulled me back inside of her, and we went again and again. Each time, we wrestled and abused each other with slaps, punches, choking, and whatever we could do to try and hurt each other – but neither of us seemed able to actually be hurt by it. I still had the size and strength advantage. She took another load down her throat, and accepted me forcing her to take it. She rolled over and pulled her sheet up. My cock was actually going soft for the first time, worn out by hours of hard fucking. Laying next to Jenna, it was like having an arm or a front-hanging tail nestled up against her. She was asleep, but I still cozied up as a big spoon behind her. I wondered what she’d do when she woke up – would she attack me, destroy my computer and equipment, run away, or what? I wrapped my arms around her, clasping my hands, reasoning that she’d break free of any type of binding I might find, and fell asleep. --- I woke up first, as luck would have it. Sunlight was starting to peek through the sides of the curtains. My arms were still around Jenna, but my hands were no longer clasped together – I guess that was bound to happen. But as I looked closer, Jenna’s shoulders seemed… wider? … fuck. I carefully pulled the sheet back. She was bigger, all right. She’d grown during the night. I guess that made sense, she’d had a dose yesterday. She was nearly my size, but it still looked like I had an inch of height on her. She must’ve felt the cool air with the sheet off, and began to stir. Now what would I do? She stretched, and rolled over to make eye contact. “Well, yesterday was something. I guess I was kind of a bitch, but you deserved it,” she started reaching for my cock. “Me? What did I do?” “Uh, hello? You treated me like a guinea pig. I guess it worked out, though. All of you grew, and you ended up being a lot of fun,” she started tugging. As she looked me up and down, she paused. “Did I grow?” She jumped up, and started pulling on my arm. “Am I bigger?” She started looking both of our bodies up and down, sticking her leg out to try and compare calves. “No, I’m still bigger,” I said. “For now,” she retorted. “Let’s get me another dose.” “No fucking way. You tried to break my arm,” I got up, and looked around for something to put on. I wasn’t really in the mood to fuck, even if my body was starting to get in the mood. “You’re fine. And I wasn’t really going to do anything,” she said. “That’s not how it sounded. We’re both done with that stuff.” “Says the guy who’s bigger and stronger.” I found a box of speedos I’d ordered when I had anticipated muscle growth, and put it on. “So you’re cutting me off. What the fuck.” I didn’t reply, but she walked over and reached into my speedo pouch, pulling out my quickly hardening cock. She got on her knees. “Well, feed me something.” I jerked off and quickly spurted several large loads into her mouth. That was interesting; she’d never liked swallowing before. Throughout the day, we just fucked and argued about the drug. She swallowed me each time, insisting on stopping and pulling my cock into her mouth for me to finish. She was really pushy about it. I eventually had enough, and just bent her over to keep her from getting her way. She tried to fight out of it, and I ended up putting her through the wall. We fell asleep in bed together again. In the morning, we had to get ready for work. Luckily, we’d ordered clothes online, so we had things to wear to work. We wouldn’t really be able to hide our growth, though. I had no idea how I was going to explain my body – Jenna’s growth had been gradual, even if unnatural. I decided I could work remotely until I figured something out, though I had no idea what that might be. While I was deep in thought, Jenna had rolled over and put her mouth on my cock. I tried to pull her up to meet face to face, but she wouldn’t budge. Huh. I thought I had the advantage. I was able to stop her from working my cock, and she moved up towards me until she was completely on top of me. She quickly moved to hold my wrists down, before I realized it. I struggled, but her position gave her the advantage. Then I realized we were the same size. Son of a bitch. She noticed it too. She used her knees to push my legs apart, and managed to slide on to my dick. She was in control. We seemed to be even, but her position made the difference. “Well, well. Looks like I’m still growing. You might be in trouble soon.” How was she still growing? She hadn’t received a dose. I spent the fuck session worrying about tomorrow, but my dong did all the work. Jenna got off and went about her routine to get ready for work. I worked on my computer while simultaneously looking over the formula. The code looked like it had changed. The introduction of a certain thing would cause a female who’d received a dose to grow. That thing looked like… semen. How the hell had someone changed it? My head swirled with questions, but I was able to come up with a solution for work. With a few minor changes, I created a formula that would give me the ability to instantly change back and forth from old 5’9” lazy Ted to muscle freak Ted. After thinking about it, I made up two doses, with one for Jenna. Just to be safe, I thought, I made a separate formula that would reverse the recipient to normal, putting it into an empty tube marked “Rash Relief”, and put it on the bathroom counter. I drank the concoction, and waited. After an hour, I had intense stomach pain, and headed to the bathroom. I spent the next hour vomiting. When I got to my feet, I was … Ted again. I was a very pale, sickly-looking version of the old me, that was for sure. My clothes hung off of me, no longer being stretched out by swollen, veiny muscle. I looked down – it was the old dick, too. I kind of wished I’d kept the monster cock, but I could always fix that later. I went back to work and waited for Jenna to get home. I wondered how she’d react to my, uh, shrinkage. --- Jenna came in that evening with a few bags of groceries. I waited upstairs as she started cooking dinner. I could feel my heartbeat pounding through my chest. Why was I so worried?, I wondered. I could grow again if Jenna came after me. But I realized that might be the end of our relationship if she really turned out to be a monster. I started down the stairs. “Ted, do you want-“ she froze as she saw me come down the stairs, pale and slight. I stood there waiting for her to say something, but we just stared at each other for what felt like forever. “Hi,” I started. “What … happened?” she had been holding a baking sheet, about to layer it with foil, and was now clutching it. I tugged at my shirt, several sizes too large. “I’m not sure why I look like someone who’s been stranded on and island.” “Ted, you looked that way before you grew. You didn’t really eat and you didn’t go outside.” she was looking at the floor now. “I was … kind of rough on you.” She stepped toward me, and pulled on the shoulders of the shirt. “Are you okay? Did the formula wear off or something?” “No, I did this. I decided it’d been enough, and just reversed the entire thing,” I pulled a small vial with a top out of my pocket. “I have one for you, and… we can just go back to the way things were.” She took the vial between her index finger and her thumb, and walked into the kitchen without saying a word. She unscrewed the top, and promptly dumped the whole thing down the sink drain. “Wh-what… what are you-“ Before I could finish, she stomped back over to me, and drove her fist into my stomach. It lifted me off my feet, and dropped me to my knees. I was out of breath and in piercing pain. I landed on my knees, and immediately took a upwards punch to my chin. Another shot struck my right cheek, followed by one to my left that kept me from falling over. It all happened so fast I couldn’t see it. Jenna grabbed me by my hair and dragged me into the living room. Repeated hard slaps to my left cheek left my skin stinging. A fist came in hard at my shoulder driving, pushing me to the ground, followed by several more. I held back tears and cries; my shoulder was overloaded with sensations of pain. “Fuck… you!” Jenna lifted me with her hands under my shoulders, like a small child. She held me up with one hand, while her other pulled my shorts waistband back. She was looking at my now-normal junk. “You didn’t even keep the dick. You asshole. I was worried for a moment you were sick from the formula, but no – you just wanted to put me back at – at being the little woman you can push around. Well, fuck you.” She dropped me to my knees, which were now hot with pain from being thrown and dropped. I tried to push her away, to no avail. As I got to my feet, she punched me – right in the balls. I was curled up in agony on the floor, trying to keep myself together. I could feel her footsteps moving towards the stairs as I tried to figure out if I she’d crushed my balls. She stomped up the stairs, going for… my office? Then I heard crashing and metal scraping noises. She was destroying everything. My computer, the equipment, the formula processor, everything. A few moments later, she was back. “That guarantees you’re tiny Ted from now on,” she said, starting to reach for me as I instinctively recoiled. I thought about changing, growing, to stop this. I wasn’t even sure if it’d work. Or, if it did work, what if I only grew a little at a time? I figured it wasn’t worth the risk in front of Jenna. “Jenna, I spent years working on that. Why would you do this?” She pulled me to my feet. “No more questions. Go get the monster cock sheath. After you’re done taking care of me, you can finish dinner.” I went upstairs as she watched, arms folded. At the top of the stairs, I could see the mess of computer parts and holes in the wall in my office. I went into our bedroom, and pulled a 10-inch rubber cock out of a bedside table drawer. As I walked by the bathroom by the top of the stairs, I could see a small plastic tube marked “Rash Relief” was still there. So I had a back-up plan. I finished cooking the dinner Jenna started, but she ate all of it. Every time I reached for something she would grab my wrist, and take it first. “You can just eat some Saltines,” she said. I went to the bathroom just to get a break. As I pulled the elastic waistband of my shorts down, she opened the door, and quickly grabbed my dick. She squeezed, hard. “You know, if I want to, I can stop you from pissing. You need to ask me for permission.” “What? That’s insane. Leave me alone, Jenna.” She squeezed harder, somehow, and my dick felt like it was going to pop. The pressure was unbearable. “Okay, okay, please stop, please!” She let me go. “Go clean up, then you can rub some body cream on me. Then maybe you can piss.” She watched as I cleaned the kitchen. I rubbed her body down, which was fun, but I had to fucking piss. “Can I go now?” I pleaded. She opened the fridge, and pulled out a jug of water. “Start drinking,” she said, smiling. I knew any answer but obedience would be a severe beating. I drank as much as I could. I didn’t bother trying to stall – she’d probably force the entire thing down my throat. I got about a third of the way through the jug. “That’s all I can do,” I said, panting. “You can piss when you finish the whole thing.” I wanted to cry, but held it together. I tried to move toward the bathroom, but she blocked the kitchen exit, and tipped the jug toward my mouth with her hand. “I can’t do this, I have to go!” I pleaded. “If you can’t finish it, then just piss yourself.” I had no choice. I just let it go, and the wet stain on my pants grew, and began to drip on the floor. “Oh Jesus, just go.” she said. I hurried to the bathroom. As I finished up, I had to see if I had the ability to change on command. I wasn’t exactly sure how to do it, but … I had to do something. I balled up my fists and looked myself in the mirror. I tensed up. What should I do to make the change, exactly? That wasn’t something I could exactly program. I looked at myself closely in the mirror, and pulled off my baggy shirt. I pictured my body growing to gigantic, muscular proportions. “Ted, what’s taking so long? You need to clean up your mess.” I felt a burning sensation in my lower back, and my skin felt like it was peeling, quickly, almost like ripping. I could see my arms swelling, shoulders spreading out, and my chest pushing out. Veins began to pop out here and there. My stomach started to show separations in my abdominals. My forearms swelled. My cheekbones pushed out. My hands widened. I tensed again, and looked myself over in the mirror. Was I as big as I was before? It was hard to tell. Maybe I should be a little bigger. As I thought that, I grew again. My shorts were concealing an inhuman bulge of cock and balls. My thighs had ripped my short legs. Looking down, my calves jutted out. I guesstimated how big I was compared to Jenna. I should have a few inches on her, but thought I could use a few more. I looked in the mirror and saw myself get wider, taller, thicker. I looked like I could push the house over with one hand. I had to be near seven feet tall, and … Jesus, I couldn’t imagine how much all of this weighed. “Ted?” I smiled. “Shut the fuck up, Jenna.” “What did you say?!” I heard her stomp towards the bathroom door. As she pulled on the knob, I pushed it open, and I could feel her stumble back. She had a fist in the air when she saw what I’d become. I had a good six inches and over a hundred pounds on her. I quickly took a step forward, and covered her fist completely with my hand. I realized the pain in my shoulder and cheeks were gone. Huh. She struggled to pull away from me with no success. I trapped her in a mock hug, and smiled. “We need to talk.” ----- *** To Be Continued ***
  16. Hialmar

    Muscle growth poem

    I got this idea after jokingly remarking to Arpeejay, that we haven't seen modernist poetry here on MG yet, so I'm writing one in jest, because the irreverent humour I cultivated as a student is still alive. It's not your average muscle growth story, but I hope it is suggestive enough. Growth: A poem Echoes in the mind. Memories from the past: Some to keep, some to leave behind. Vivid mind. Brittle body Echoes in the mind. Heroes from the past: Greater than other kings, lofty in stature, a hero born in Uruk, a wild and rampaging bull was he. The sheer physicality! The space he occupies Fear of the place with steel-weights In bloodstream herolatry Vivid mind. Adolescent body Echoes in the mind. Heroes from the past: A man unlike no other cometh down from the mountains. His strength is beyond compare; he is like unto an immortal. The sheer physicality! The space he occupies Fear of the place with steel-weights In bloodstream shame Allure of the place with steel-weights De profundis: The URGE Mens sana in corpore sano in Alexandria of yore. But THE URGE? Vivid mind. Lanky body Echoes in the mind. Heroes from the past: Culann's dog and his body-changing frenzy The sheer physicality! The space he occupies Present in the place with steel-weights In bloodstream URGE Vivid mind. Changing body Echoes in the mind. Heroes from the past: Hottr drinking monster-blood, becoming Hjalti The sheer physicality! The space he occupies Home at the place with steel-weights In bloodstream GROWTH of heroes past becoming walls protective walls of flesh instead of brick becoming like the heroes past becoming wall protective wall of flesh instead of brick In bloodstream URGE, in bloodstream GROWTH becoming like the echoes in the mind. In bloodstream joy asserting joy The sheer physicality! The space you occupies huge at the place with steel-weights towering Pharos for brothers journeying yearning for sheer physicality! The space you occupies seeking the harbour, protective wall hearing the echoes, too Allure of the place with steel-weights echoes of their past leaving some behind when you play Bödvar's part and they attain The sheer physicality! The space they occupies and they become Greater than other kings, lofty in stature because In bloodstream URGE, in bloodstream GROWTH! Commentary Any modernist poem need a commentary, of course. Wink. Wink. 😉 The most obvious references are the following: The first two quotes come from the Gilgamesh Epic, and describe the two heroes Gilgamesh and Enkidu De profundis are the two first words of Psalm 130 (129 in older Catholic bibles for historical reasons), with lots and lots of famous settings Mens sana in corpore sano is a Latin saying by Juvenal, based on a Greek original by Thales of Miletus (624-546 BCE), so the quotes and allusions on heroic tales and physioculture are arranged chronologically Alexandria was founded by Alexander the Great in 332 BCE. Ships were guided to its harbour by the help of the lighthouse on Pharos, one of the seven wonders of the ancient world. Is the reader re-building himself into a wonder? The city-walls of Alexandria become a figure of speech for a gym-rat's mental and physical changes. "Culann's dog" is the literal meaning of the name of Cú Chullainn, one of the most famous heroes in Irish mythology, set in a time before the age of St. Patrick: Iron Age Ireland. Cú Chullainn was increasing in strength and turning monstrous in battle, so – in a manner of speaking – he is the original fictitious hero to "hulk out" An Icelandic saga, the tale of Hrolf Kraki (which bear some similarities with the Anglo-Saxon Beowulf Epic), tell the story of the warrior Bödvar (who is able to transform himself into a bear) protect a bullied youngster called Hottr, and let Hottr drink the blood of a monster, which formerly, until Bödvar stopped it, used to harass the court of King Hrolf. After that, Hottr turn into a huge and confident warrior, and change his name to Hjalti. The saga takes place during the Vendel Age (550-790 CE), and comes last in the chronological change, except for the new heroic tales that begin when the reader and his friends change themselves into kings over their own lives, and become good, joyful modern men accepting themselves and helping others.
  17. LinkX

    If the Shoe Fits.

    Pardon the tags... what I've written so far is mostly set up at the moment. I'd like to get some constructive feedback before I continue. Please refrain from calling out my punctuation mistakes. Otherwise let me know if I should continue. I understand that so far this plot has been done like a million different times...but honestly nowadays what plot hasn't? Hopefully you can find something unique to my story. Please let me know what you think. Also apologies for the chapters being so short...it looks longer on Microsoft. Chapter 1 I pulled into my driveway and pushed the clicker on my garage opener. As the door slowly slid open I couldn’t help but crack a smile. Suddenly a rough day at work didn’t seem so terrible. My boyfriend of eight years was finally home after a two month work assignment back east. After shutting down the car and grabbing my gym bag I opened the door to my house… and the lights were off. Of course. I could hear the sounds of battle coming from upstairs. I don’t know why I expected him to be waiting for me by the door when I got home… he’s an avid player of this sword and magic computer game he plays with his friends, and the game released an expansion three days before he got home. Of course he didn’t have his gaming computer with him so he had to wait… which I know drove him nuts. I set my bag down by the washing machine and trudged up the stairs to our bedroom. I guided myself by the light blue light coming from my partner’s computer screen in the bedroom. I entered the room quietly. His back was to me and he had his headset on. He was frantically pushing buttons and shouting commands into his mic. “Stack! Stack! Over here…. Ok fast rez this pug over here… never mind we’ll get him later. Drop your A O E and push!” I still can’t translate all his gamer jargon. I waited a couple minutes while he finished his fight. Before he could find a new bad guy to go destroy I turned the lights on. Startled, he quickly turned to face me. His face lit up. Then he turned back to his screen. “Sorry guys, I have to go, Frizzle can you command? Thanks, see ya.” He shut down his game, tossed his headset down, and then proceeded to jump right into my arms. “Oh my god, I missed you so much… my family is terrible!” he exclaimed between kisses. “I missed you too babe,” I replied. “Looks like you managed to find some shopping at least.” He pulled back from our embrace and gave me his goofy smile. God I loved him so much. I set him down so he could parade what he got. “Yeah… so you won’t believe this,” he said excitedly. “I went to this specialty big and tall store and found these!” He pointed to his feet. He was wearing an enormous pair of sneakers. They were at least a few sizes larger than my own size 15 shoes. “check ‘em out… size 20! I never thought I’d find a store that carried them!” I laughed. “You could always try Amazon you know.” Still smiling, he quickly shot me that not-amused look that I knew all too well. “You can’t see them in real life on Amazon before you buy them,” he said pointedly. “You know I like to shop for shoes.” Still laughing I shot back “yeah, well you have no problem special ordering other clothes online.” He reached up and lightly tapped me on the chest. “That’s different… Speaking of which, I got a package today that had this in it,” he said, pointing to the oversized muscle-tank he looked like he was practically drowning in. “Oh, and these.” He lifted up his shirt revealing a pair of workout shorts that looked like pants on him, and untied the waist. The large shorts fell to the floor revealing a jockstrap with a gigantic pouch. The straps hung loosely around his legs and the waist was tied to hold it on his body. He was excited, in more than one way, but of course his thin 5.5 inch cock didn’t fill the giant pouch he had literally tied around his waist. He looked back up at me grinning ear to ear. At that moment he reminded me of a puppy that knew he had done well and was waiting for a treat. “Damn dude!” I told him, playing to his fantasy. “You’re gonna be huge when you grow into those!” “Damn right!” he shot back, smiling. I knew full well there wasn’t a chance in hell he’d ever fit those clothes. I’ve heard of people gaining an extra inch or two of height in their early to mid-twenties… but at 30 years old, even if by some miracle he had a growth spurt, there was no way my 5’4”, 130 lb stud with a size 8 shoe would fill this outfit out. Still, I entertained his fantasy because I love him. As long as I’ve known him he’s been fascinated with everything big. Big height, big muscle, big cock. That’s his motto. That’s why he fell for me so quickly. At 6’5” I’m a tall drink of water, and I’m pretty proud of my bodybuilder physique (it’s so much tougher for us tall guys). With those two traits when he first saw me he went weak in the knees... but when I got him home and he got his eyes on my thick 8.5” piece of meat deal was done. He decided right then and there he was gonna keep me. I must have zoned out just thinking about how I met my man, and how much I loved him and all his quirks all these years later. Because next thing I knew he was waving at me: “Hey…hey… earth to Aaron. Are you going to stand there and stare at me all evening? I love you, but I haven’t had sex in two months. I need your ass.” As was typical when he was wearing his bigger clothes he was the top that night. Chapter 2 He really was a horny little bastard. He shot 4 loads before pulling out, and then still got a fifth off all over my face before collapsing next to me. He leaned over to the nightstand and handed me a rag. “That’s gonna feel so much better when I’m bigger,” he said nonchalantly--still coming down off his orgasm. “I’m gonna open you up like you do me…and it’s going to be awesome when I go to the gym. I’ll walk around the locker room naked with my dick swinging back and forth and everyone will want it. I’ll be buff with pecs like yours and people will ask to feel my arms too. It’ll be awesome to have you be the little spoon for once.” “I can be your little spoon now,” I reassured him. He laughed. “Haha…yeah…but no. I mean I like holding you… but I can’t sleep like that, you’re too wide I can’t reach all the way around you like I’d like to yet. I want to be able to hold you like you hold me.” “But when you’re big, how am I going to keep the other guys off you? Who’s to say that you won’t find a guy that likes your size as much as you like mine? You might not want to keep me then” I teased. He sat up and looked me in the eye: “Aaron, you’re like a shoe that fits me perfectly… I’ll never outgrow you.” He stated seriously. “A shoe? Seriously?” I scolded playfully. “Patrick… I love you but you’re a dork.” I rolled out of bed. “All right big guy, let’s shower and get to bed… you’ve got to be jetlagged.” Chapter 3 The next few weeks went by fairly routinely. That is until one Saturday morning while I was cooking breakfast Patrick shouted down from the bedroom, “Aaron, Aaron come quick!” I hurried up the stairs to see what was the matter. Patrick was absent mindedly stroking his cock with one hand while scrolling down a browser with the other. “What’s up?” I asked. “You’ve got to read this” was his reply. I began scanning the screen. It was the results of a two year research study investigating a compound that was supposed to interact with the endocrine system, inducing height and muscular changes. “This is it… I’m finally going to get big!” Patrick exclaimed. “Wait…what?” I stuttered, trying to run through the page before he got too far ahead of me. “I finally found what I need to get big like you! I told you! I told you I’m gonna get huge like you!” I finished reading the synopsis. “Hold on a sec, guy… this says the study was discontinued early because the compound didn’t have an effect on enough participants. It’s been 3 years. Even then the best case scenario is an “increase of 1-3 inches in height as well as increased musculature, penis size and rigidity”. I quoted. “Honey, you can’t get more rigid… and is 1-3 inches worth any risk?” “Like you said, it’s been 3 years, I’m sure they’ve done more research,” he countered quickly, “and yes…1-3” would be worth it.” He gazed into my eyes with such sincerity and need that I quickly gave in. “If you think it’s what you need to do I’m with you 110%... remember though its 4 injections over the course of a year, so it’s not like you can change your mind.” I said. “I’ll think about it… but I won’t change my mind. I promise.” Chapter 4 Over the next several days I became concerned. Each night when I got home from work Patrick would be upstairs on his computer. Though instead of the usual video game chatter. I’d arrive to silence. I’d wander upstairs, and Patrick would be sprawled out by his desk, head phones in, scrawling through page after page of research. He sit there in his size 20 sneakers and oversized jock, every once in a while moving enough to make a bookmark, and every few hours I’d make him stop and walk downstairs to either eat or get some water. Or anything really…just something to let me know he was still alive. One night I was sitting downstairs watching the latest episode of Gotham when he came downstairs and sat beside me. He snuggled up next to me and after a few minutes simply said “I’m ready.” Patrick managed to book an initial intake appointment a few weeks later. He was nervous, and asked that I go with him. We drove from the suburbs to the address provided, which turned out to be an historic tire warehouse building that had been converted into a laboratory. The outside didn’t look too impressive. Just faded signs painted on the walls probably 80 years ago, a Starbucks on the ground floor, and two purposefully rusty-looking doors with a buzzer and keypad to the right of them. I pressed the buzzer and a voice quickly answered, asking Patrick to confirm his appointment. He did and the door clicked allowing us entry. The interior of the building was markedly different from the outside. It was very brightly lit. Very sterile looking. At the center of the room was a large white circular desk. A young twinkish man who looked like he was maybe a freshman in college sat at the desk. As we approached the desk he checked us both out. Very obviously. He smirked at Patrick, then glanced me over and then fumbled with some paperwork on his desk as we got near. “Hello,” he said. “You must be Patrick. Thank you for coming. Dr. Stevens will be with you shortly.” He turned to me. “I’m sorry I didn’t catch your name, and I don’t see another appointment at this time.” “Oh no, I’m just here with him,” I replied. The twink gave us a knowing look. “Oh ok, that’s cool. Make yourself comfortable. We have a few chairs and some reading material. Do you need anything to drink?” “Not at the moment. Thank you,” I responded. Patrick finished his questionnaire and we sat down. A few minutes later I saw a man with a clipboard walk down the stairs. He was about 6’2”, with a nice athletic build and short, jet black hair. He was wearing a blue button down shirt and black denim jeans. “Howdy… Patrick?” he asked. Patrick looked up from the fitness magazine he had started to read. Introductions were made and the doctor invited us upstairs. Chapter 5 Dr. Stevens’s office was fairly nondescript. It consisted of a large oak desk, a couple chairs, a computer, a lamp, and a large bookcase full of books and knickknacks. In the center of the bookcase was an urn, next to the urn sat a tiny little barbell and a photo of a child in a wheelchair. I couldn’t tell you the kid’s age. His head too large for his body, which seemed to have little to no musculature at all. He was short, though his hands looked large. Despite all this I couldn’t help but be entertained by the kid’s beaming smile. Whoever was taking the photo obviously meant the world to this young man and you couldn’t look at this photo without seeing it in his expression. “mgm-hmm,” Dr. Stevens coughed. We all took a seat around the desk. “My secretary says you’re quite persistant, Mr.” “Patrick,” my boyfriend chimed in, “and this is my partner Aaron.” “Nice to meet you both, so what can I help you with.” Patrick looked at me for reassurance. I gave him a nod, and he began grinning ear to ear and scooted to the edge of his seat. This seemed to make the doctor uncomfortable for a moment as he shifted in his chair and shot a glance to the urn on his bookshelf. “Sir, three years ago you lead a study on the effects of a certain compound on the endocrine system,” Patrick started. “That study ended early,” the doctor interrupted. “The compound was deemed ineffective on human systems.” Patrick’s grin faded. “Yes, but it wasn’t…” “Wasn’t what?” The doctor was obviously agitated. “If you’d done your research you would have realized that the compound you speak of was only effective in less than 1% of the sample. Even then the effects were insufficient for continued funding. I’m a busy man, do you have a reason for hounding my assistant for days to get an appointment or did you just want me to read the conclusion of my paper for you?” Feeling intimidated, Patrick slouched back into his chair momentarily before standing up and walking towards the door. He was doing his best to fight back tears. I stood to join him, my heart felt heavy looking at my lover’s dejected demeanor. I could see his hope…his dream… falling to pieces in front of me. “It wasn’t a failure,” I said softly while looking straight at Patrick. “You had results. Sure, they weren’t as much as hoped for… but they were results. My partner…my boyfriend…has taken time off work, and has driven over 50 miles for an hour of your time. Sure, it’s a long shot. But from where he’s standing it’s his best shot of attaining the one thing he’s wanted for as long as he could breathe. The entire reason we’re here-- the reason he’s blown up your secretary’s phone and email. Is because he wants… he needs… to explore this opportunity.” Patrick wiped a tear from his cheek, his eyes lit up. He had his fire back. “Sir,” he stated. “Aaron’s right. The study wasn’t a failure. Please give me a chance. Even if it’s a small chance” He looked the doctor squarely in the eye. He spoke with sincerity. With need. “Someday I’m going to be big… like you and Aaron. I know it. I just need help getting there. Please help me.” Dr. Stevens didn’t move. He didn’t say anything. He stared at Patrick as though he’d seen a ghost. Finally he began fiddling with a pen. Squeezing it until his knuckles turned white then releasing it, over and over. He stood up and walked over to the bookcase. Standing in front of the urn with his back to us he finally spoke: “You don’t just stop and start studies willy-nilly. That’s not how professional research works,” he began. “But?” Patrick said quietly. “But,” the doctor turned, “my research has never really stopped to be honest. No, I don’t have any current “subjects” or “trials”, but the scientist in me still looks for the answers I know are out there. I didn’t have enough subjects to truly test out the compound I developed, and funding dried up. My old company blamed faulty research, but it wasn’t. The formula is just very specific. It only affects a fraction of a fraction of the human population—and I have developed a hypothesis that that’s because it affects a specific hormonal genetic marker that only one in several million people have. I don’t have the resources I’d need to prove or disprove that any longer.” “What happens if you get the injection and you don’t have the marker,” I asked. “Nothing,” the doctor sighed. “If it doesn’t work, you may as well have been injected with saline.” “Do… do you still have access to your old formula?” Patrick asked carefully. The doctor looked at him skeptically. “I do.” “Then may I try it?” He continued quickly, “If it doesn’t work, we’ve lost nothing. If it does, we have everything to gain. I’ll sign whatever legal papers I need to absolve you of any liability. I’ll pay you. Please. What can I offer to get your help? I'll do anything.” The pleading look in his eyes spoke louder than words. The doctor sat back down and put his head between his hands. After a few moments he looked up. “I may very well lose my license over this, but I’ll do it. You remind me so much of my brother I’d be ashamed if I said no.” Patrick was so excited his legs gave out. As he sunk to his knees tears streamed down his face. I hurried over to hold him. I’d never seen him so excited. He was shaking. “Oh my god… oh my god,” he kept repeated. “It’s gonna happen! It’s finally gonna happen!” Dr. Stevens took some Kleenex out of his desk drawer. He then picked up the phone and told his assistant to clear his schedule for the evening. He took a couple and handed them to us. He gave us a few minutes for Patrick to collect himself before speaking again. “Ada…I mean Patrick. Now since I’ve agreed to assist you and provide you with the compound, we need to discuss terms. We are going to approach this scientifically. Before we administer the first injection, I need to have you sign some disclosure and consent forms. Also, I want to run a full blood work up on you. I’m certain you won’t be allergic to the formula, I’d just like to have a baseline for your hormone levels. Also, I’m going to need to run a complete physical—including height, weight, musculature, and sexual function. Once that’s complete I can administer the injection. If you react, you should begin to notice some changes within the next three to four days. I ask that you email me if you feel any changes. In the meantime, I will provide you with a diet and exercise plan that you must follow daily. We will schedule a follow up appointment one week from today. If you’re not reacting to the formula no need to come in. If you do have a reaction we will continue to the next phase. Keep in mind that once you receive the injection it’s irreversible.” Patrick looked at me once again for approval. I nodded. “I understand,” Patrick said. “How much do I owe you?” Dr. Stephens smiled. “We’re going to do this right. For this first visit there will be no payment. If you react to the formula, each week I will provide to you a stipend to cover the full cost of anything study related.” “I thought you didn’t have funding.” I said, stunned by his generous offer. “The one exception I’m making for this project is that this particular trial will be paid out of a very special trust fund, if it should be successful” the doctor replied, again glancing at the urn. “Thank you sir,” Patrick said. “Where do I sign?”
  18. arpeejay

    Manzeum (Conclusion & Epilogue)

    By Richard Jasper Conclusion & Epilogue Part 7 can be found here: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/15455-manzeum-part-7/ Actually, asking Alan wasn’t required. He dropped to his knees (again!), this time in pulling down Kevin’s shorts and – PLOOP! – swallowing Kevin’s thick piece whole. “Oh, Big Daddy,” Kevin moaned. “This young man knows how to suck!” Roger stood behind Kevin and wrapped one of his gargantuan arms around his lover’s thick chest, playing with Kevin’s thick, pointy nipples, massaging Kevin’s squat butt with his other hand. “Alan,” Roger growled. “How would you like for Kevin to fuck you?” The young black bear pulled off Kevin’s 9-inch tool. “I’d like that very much, sir!” He whipped around and presented his juicy, rock hard for Kevin’s inspection. Kevin wasted no time plunging his shaft into the bear boy’s meaty ass. Kevin wrapped his 21-inch biceps around Alan’s big thick chest and lifted him off the ground. Roger, who’d been cranking the whole time, couldn’t take it anymore. He plunged his 12-inch kielbasa into Kevin’s quivering hole and lifted both of them, nearly 500 lbs. of man meat, into the air. All three came at the same time. “Whew,” Kevin said afterwards. “Good thing that door is sound proof.” Roger chuckled. “Like you think they don’t know what happens in here?” Kevin’s sheepish grin acknowledged the unlikelihood of that idea. “Uh, Alan,” Roger said. “I hope you’re not, you know, in the closet or anything. Because, if so, I think we just blew your cover. Big time!” Alan snorted. “As if! You are taking to Mr. Leather Cub 2018, y’know!” Roger looked at Kevin, who shrugged? HE knew! “I’m old and out of touch,” Roger admitted. Alan laughed. “Oh, yeah,” he said. “You’re old, alright! 35 tops, I’d say!” Kevin rolled his eyes. “Do you suppose…?” he asked. Roger shrugged the tectonic plates that comprised his shoulders. “I’m kinda thinking so,” he said. And so they had a little chat with Alan, who had not been altogether attentive when it came to noticing Roger’s D.O.B., despite having asked him for it when he first administered the shot. +++ What would have been the sixth week of the study, Roger gained an average of 10 lbs. of muscle per day, adding two inches per day to his chest and nearly an inch a day to his arms. And whatever was in the stuff that was affecting Roger’s dick decided to play catch up, growing half an inch per day – for a week. By the time the week had ended… 450 lbs. 3% body fat 90 inch chest 45 inch waist 50 inch quads 38 inch biceps And his dick? 15 ½ x 12 On the third day he’d surpassed 400 lbs. and that’s when Kevin had suggested – insisted, actually – that he start training at night, when the gym was closed. “You’re scaring the customers,” Kevin said. The same day, Roger put his house on the market and cashed out his investments. The real estate market was hot enough that he had an offer on the house for $50K over his asking price the very next day. “You know why I’m doing this, right?” he asked. Kevin nodded. “No one in their right mind is going to believe that you’re Roger Funderburk,” he agreed. “You’re twice the size you were six weeks ago and you look young enough to be your own son. Hell, at this point, you look young enough to be my nephew.” Roger sighed. “I love it,” he said. “I wouldn’t trade it for anything. But…” Kevin laughed. “Yeah,” he said. “It’s the pain the ass. Wanna trade?!” Buying a new identity cost Roger a cool $100K. Fortunately, the alias maker was down with the idea of passing off the NEW Roger as his late lesbian sister’s previously unrecorded offspring. So he was still “Roger,” just “Roger Funderburk Jones,” a 28-year-old named for his late mother’s baby brother. “I think Lisa would be cool with it,” Roger said. Kevin clapped his hand on one of Roger’s medicine-ball delts. “I’d say it’s a nice memorial. You done good.” For his part, Kevin sold the gym for a bundle with only one proviso – that Alan become the gym manager. His staff members were a bit taken aback that their new boss was a somewhat chubby, 5’8, 235-lb. 25-year-old with no previous gym experience. “He knows everything he needs to know,” Kevin assured them. “Namely, where to find me! In the meantime, expect BIG things of him!” EPILOGUE Roger Funderburk Jones and Kevin Doyle Leonardo settled in the back of beyond. It might have been Upstate New York or the mountains of Montana. It might have been Alaska or very rural Maine. Wherever it was, they kept to themselves. It was a biggish property, a couple of hundred acres, with a big, 10,000 square foot Timber lodge sort of house in the middle of it, 10-foot ceilings and extra-wide doors, with every amenity you could think of, including a separate 2000 square-foot facility with an indoor pool, sauna, steam room, and fully-equipped gymnasium. They were BIG guys, even though neither of them topped 6 ft., one of them clearly a bodybuilder, the other an absolute mountain of a man. He was rumored to be a powerlifter or a World’s Strongest Man competitor, even though his name never showed up in the lists. A year after they moved in, a third giant man showed up, this one African American, which would have stood out in itself in such a rural, predominantly white area. But this kid – and clearly he was in his mid 20s at most – was HYOOCH! No more than 5’8 or 5’9, he had to tip the scales at close to 350 lbs. and all of it solid muscle. It seemed likely his chest was bigger around that he was tall and his arms were pushing 30 inches. Plenty of young guys in East Bumfuckia had waists that size or smaller – and everyone who saw those arms, no matter how straight, was sporting wood by the time he had filled up his rental car, had a piece of Miss Maxine’s delicious blueberry pie, and headed up to see “The Guys,” as they were called. BING BONG! The door was already opening by the time Alan pressed the bell. “Baby Boy,” Kevin exclaimed. He stuck his enormous hands under Alan’s armpits and LIFTED, swinging the muscle behemoth around like he was a little kid. “Daddy Kevin!” Alan exclaimed. A Mountain walked into the room. “OK, OK,” he boomed. “You’ve had your fun, Kevin. Now put the boy down. Unless you want ME to do the same to you?!” Kevin stopped spinning and hugged Alan close. At 450 lbs., Kevin had a hundred pounds on Alan, all of it muscle, and he was at least twice as strong. And two inches taller than when he and Roger had moved to the Back-of-Beyond. “We will have plenty of time to play later,” Roger said. “Now I just want to give me little man a hug!” Alan threw himself into Roger’s arms. Like Kevin, he had grown a couple of inches taller. And even though it had slowed down considerably, Roger’s muscle growth had continued unabated. At 6 ft. he was now 750 lbs., all muscle, with dimensions that beggared belief. It was all Alan could do to reach his arms halfway around Roger’s 60-inch neck. “You are looking mighty fine, Young Mr. Montgomery,” he said. Roger held Alan at arm’s length. Alan might have been a kitten for all the effort Roger seemed to be expending on holding his 350 lbs. in the air. “Have I been a good boy, Big Daddy?” Alan asked. Roger glowed. “A very good boy indeed,” he said. Alan’s eyes took on a mischievous light. “Then don’t I deserve a prize?” Kevin laughed. “I can think of one,” he said, whipping out his 12-inch dick. Roger growled at the sight of it. He never got tired of looking at it. “Maybe you could do something with THIS?” He pushed down his bespoke fleece sweatpants. Twenty inches of man meat sprang free. “Ooh, Daddy,” Alan said. “Is it OK if I try to make it grow some more?” Roger chuckled. “Go right ahead, son. Give it your best shot!” He had a dream so big and loud, They jumped so high they touched the clouds, Woah-oh-oh Oh-oh-oh THE END
  19. Work had shifted me over to working until late at night so I've had to start working out late at night. I am usually one of the only people there but recently a guy who I remember seeing there during the day is working out when I do; thing is he has grown fucking massive! He has had to of doubled in size since I last saw him some weeks prior. My first thought, asides from envy and lust, was "Oh Lord, here we go again". Rumors had started that the gym owner will make some patrons into his...pet projects if you will, these guys would somehow blow up size and eventually just disappear. No one knew what the hell happened or where they went but we were willing to bet that the owner has a connection with a certain supplement company that has been making waves in the market with products that worked wonders, a little too well at that. I came into the gym one night to start up one hell of a back workout (gotta hit that new deadlift PR right?) when who do I see but the man in action at the leg press! There he is wearing nothing more than a wife beater, tights, and a pair of those Otomix shoes the pros and power lifters wear. I'm transfixed staring at him pressing a max loaded sled grunting as his spandex-clad legs piston through the motion while he grunts with each rep. Once I saw what he had between his legs fighting for space in a way that can only be described as grotesque I tripped over my own feet. With one last grunt he finished his set and looked at me on the ground blushing in embarrassment as I tried, and failed, to pretend nothing happened. Swiftly I got up and went to the other side of the gym to start doing some pull ups making sure not to meet his gaze the whole time. As I continued my workout I could hear his rhythmic grunting and heavy foot falls as he came went from exercise to exercise. I was in the corner of the gym resting between deadlift sets when he took the squat rack right next to me racking up hundred pound plat after hundred pound plate. After I stopped gawking I noticed he put the exact weight I was deadlifting onto the bar, I looked at his reflection in the mirror and met his gaze when he started his set. He did 20 reps with perfect form and no signs of effort as he didn't break eye contact the entire set. My new personal best of a single deadlift at 600lbs felt like I may as well have lifted a tenth of that. I couldn't help myself as a nice sized tent sprouted in my shorts which he noticed and gave me a smirk before doing another set of 20 reps. I took my time to calm down and resume my workout doing my best to ignore him as he kept squatting and adding yet more plates with little more exertion every set. He soon had the bar maxed out with hundred pound plates and seemed to be either waiting for something or possibly taking a break before resumed. I sat down on a nearby bench to rest briefly after putting my weights away when he quickly took his spot back and resumed squatting. I had a front row seat to watch as he slowly and easily squatted down nearly till his ass touched the ground and stood up grunting under the exertion and displaying his prowess. His ass looked two basketballs cut in half stuffed into blue spandex, balls bigger than any NBA player could hope to hold without two hands cupping their massiveness. As he squatted down I got so hard that I couldn't tell what had more blood in it, my entire body after a grueling deadlift personal record or my dick. He did a full ten reps with a familiarity like meeting a lifelong friend before he reracked the weights with a very loud and echoing thud, further driving home how empty the gym was with only the two of us there. He turned around and sauntered/waddled toward my slack jawed self. His legs were so pumped they looked like a chart of the human circulatory system through his leggings; but what drew my attention the most was the mass at eye level that was not dissimilar to a fruit arrangement with two grapefruits and a thick bottle gourd but with angry thick veins everywhere. As it throbbed and pulsed with a large wet spot forming on the tip I heard him speak for the first time tonight. "Hey, my eyes are up here mate.” he said with a voice as deep and gravely as a mountain slide, "Can you do me a favor bud and rerack my weights? I got something I need to take care of as you can see." He chuckled to himself as he gave his dick a squeeze eliciting a groan from the both of us and made the wet spot on his spandex expand further. I nodded as he put a very heavy and calloused hand on my shoulder. "Thanks a lot man, nice work on the deadlifts bud." He took his hand off my shoulder to close my mouth which I hadn't noticed was still open as I stared in disbelief. He winked at me as he waddled away. I felt like I was about to cum then and there as he slowly made his way to the locker room taking enough time to make sure he had my undivided attention. I awkwardly stood up as my dick was so hard it hurt now and put his weights away. I just couldn't help myself to do what he asked and someone has to do it right? I spent the next few minutes stretching with my erection refusing to get less hard before I headed to the locker room as well. I was debating if he was coming onto me, toying with me, or just got off on showing his power when I heard the telltale wet noises of flesh on flesh and a very deep grunting coming from the stalls. I cautiously made my way towards the restroom trying my damnedest to not make my presence known when he started to moan loader. As I rounded the corner I could see his shoes in the stall closest to the door as he let out one last booming grunt. It took me a second to realize what happened as he came until I looked towards the ceiling; with an extremely percussive thwack he was hitting the ceiling tiles with such force to push them upwards. After what felt like a good two minutes his orgasm finally died down as he went from hitting the new hole in the ceiling, to over the stall door with a perfect arc to the mirror across the room, until finally it was contained in his stall. As my head was swimming in the miasma of his musk and the unadulterated rank smell of pure sex he let out a loud FUCK! His feet were shifting and I noticed that strips of cloth were falling down to the ground, it took me a second to make the connection it was the remains of his wife beater. He continued to curse to himself with each word being muttered in a deeper voice while he stood up and, what I can only assume to be, struggled to pull his tights back up. I quietly slipped outside of the locker room before he could notice and waited until I heard his stall door to open before reentering, pretending I hadn't heard or seen anything. I went to my locker to rifle through my belongings as I built up the courage to say something, anything to him. As I was feigning interest at my gym bag I heard an extremely loud thunk coming from the weight scale, I turned around to see that he set it to max weight but with only one leg and part of his body weight had exceeded the limits of the now meager scale. After this sunk in I finally took notice of him. He had grown, substantially, to the point that he far eclipsed the man who I saw in the gym earlier. His shoulders had grown so wide that even a set of double doors would soon give him issues. His thick neck had lost the lost not only the battle but the war to his encroaching traps that were now threatening to swallow his head. His back could rival the moon in its ability to eclipse the sun, thick enough that his arms were forced up further into the air. His arms, even at rest, were much thicker than either of our heads. Miraculously his leggings had somehow managed to not explode off of his legs that were now so massive he had to change his stance like he was straddling a Clydesdale stallion, and yet his calves were still grazing each other as he stood up straight. What both impressed and terrified me the most was that despite his immensity I could clearly see, with him standing the other direction, a few inches of his dick that was threatening to rip upwards through his leggings that are absolutely struggling to keep the monster caged. He finally took notice of my meager presence, meager only while compared to him as otherwise my 6' 260lb frame would by no means be deigned as such. "Jeff right?" He inquired in a voice like the oncoming of a storm. "Yes actually, though I never got your name" I responded with my voice cracking in a combination of fear, lust, and awe. "I'm Ian." He replied with a hungry tone, "Would you mind helping me scrub my back in the shower? I seem to be having issues reaching it at the moment." He chuckled at his joke as he finally turned away from the weight scale he had been staring down. I couldn't help but gasp as I saw him from the front after his recent changes. A chest so thick that light could not escape its crevices; his nipples were nearly forced into hiding as they pointed down towards the ground and his abs which looked like a vest network of deep canyons with 10 peaks. His ass was so thick that not even his quads could hide it as you could see the curves of it from his front. To top it all off was a bulge in the front nearing the size of a medium pumpkin holding his angry, veiny, throbbing nuts. His dick, which at this point was both longer and thicker than my own heavily worked forearms, was steadily dripping precum through his straining tights. I have to admit I'm it proud of it, though I dare you to do better in my situation, but I came right then and there. I had always been the bigger man in my relationships, I was rarely outsized in my day to day interactions, but to come face to face with so much...man was too much for me. A man who, with a conservative estimate, was well over twice my size yet only an inch or two taller released a flood gate from within me that seemed like it wouldn't stop nor did I want it to either. He waddled over to me and put hands that could easily envelop my thick shoulders to support me. "Whoa there Jeff, I take it you like what you see eh?" He said while laughing. My dick gave an appreciative spurt as my orgasm started to end. "Guess you need a shower too now don't you bud?" He chortled. I numbly nodded my head while drinking in how close I was to this demigod. As he kicked off his shoes he instructed me to go ahead and strip then head towards the shower with him. He waddled away slowly taking every step deliberately while flexing his legs and ass as I took off my sweaty cum drenched clothing as if my life depended on it. I caught up with Ian in the room before the showers which had a large mirror and counter spanning the length of the wall. Ian was performing pose after pose with a combination of both worry and pride. While still looking into the mirror he met my gaze mid side bicep pose. "Fuck Jeff that is a nice piece you have their man! Though, not quite nice as mine heh". I couldn't help but blush; imagine a stud like me reduced to blushing like a school girl, as I flexed my 10" dick at him with my golf ball sized testicles bouncing. "Well Ian we can't all be freaks like you can we? What the fuck are you on that is making you grow like this and where the fuck can I get some?" "Never mind that Jeff, have any critiques on my posing stud?" He transition to a most muscular as he said this. A pose had never before lived up to its name until right then. He waddled over to me and flexed his arm which as pumped as it was had to be nearly twice as the size of his head now. "Or would you rather just feel it?" I gulped and slowly put my hand on the fire hot, harder than diamond bicep and came all over his leggings and stomach. Ian started laughing as he stopped flexing his arm, his dick now drooling a steady amount of pre through his tights, and swapped back to a most muscular. All the veins on his body were in stark relief as his head was being consumed by his chest and shoulders mid flex. "You do know you're going to have to clean that up right?" He said as he stopped flexing and stood up straight. I finally ended my second orgasm within a few minutes of each other as he stared into my soul. He started bouncing his pecs which at the point was akin to a devastating earthquake with his mass. I reached out and placed my hand firmly on his chest as he was doing this. Ian's dick throbbed and let loose another salvo of pre as he kept bouncing his chest with my hand firmly on it. I slowly brought my hand down his chest committing every part of it to memory for future alone time material. I got near his nipple and gave it a nice hard squeeze not realizing what hell would break loose. Simultaneously a few things happened. 1) Ian's eyes bugged out as he let out a combination yell/moan. 2) His knees started to buckle as he leaned forward putting enough weight on me for support that it made me worry that my own strength was being put to the ultimate test. 3) His dick throbbed torturously as he came with such force that despite his leggings it rebounded onto my legs from the wall a few feet away from us to the point it stung. 4) As he was thrusting his hips like a man in a seizure he grew, God did he grow. Ian bellowed out a very drawn out and angry FUCK as he curled his toes as if he was trying to claw into the earth. While mumbling/moaning incoherently he drew me into a bear hug to support his still thrusting and cumming self. He was radiating heat to the point I worried I was going to be burned as he inexplicably ab fucked my dick with his thrusts. I couldn't breath and when I could all I drew in was more of his heady musk. I joined him in my third orgasm in less than twenty minutes making an even worse mess over his stomach. After what felt like a sweaty crushing eternity he finally dropped me to the ground. I looked up but could only see his immense bulge and chest, his face long hidden by the two. "God fucking damn it!" He roared as he awkwardly waddled to the mirror. I stood up as he was examined himself with a mixture of expletives and curses at me and his luck. His arms were nearly locked into place at a 70° angle, each nearly as thick as my chest. Ian grunted in pain as he vainly grabbed towards his tights that somehow had still not burst off of his indescribable bulk, I really need to write a glowing review for the company that made them. I noticed his source of discomfort; his tights were now past skin tight and were digging deep into his rock hard flesh. Through a hole which had torn open on the back side I not only found out he chose to go commando tonight but got a full on view of his shaved hole. I stepped closer to Ian as he awkwardly tried to maneuver his bulk to a point where he could grab his tights and either take or rip them off. Defying logic he somehow gained purchase while awkwardly bending down as much as his body would now allow. As he got his leggings down to his knees he thrust backward with enough force to impale himself half way onto my 10" dick much to my delight and his horror. "JEFF WHAT THE FUCK MAN!?!" Ian screamed as he instinctively both clenched and stood up with enough force to bring me with him. With me still half way into his medicine ball sized cheeks Ian struggled to reach me but his new bulk interfered with his every movement. "Jeff get the fuck out of-" I couldn't help myself as I buried myself to the hilt. Ian let out a deep and angry moan as I started to thrust. "Jeff you mother fucker, when I get my hands onto you I'll show you how a real man does it you bitch!" I responded by pulling out to the tip of my head and slamming down to my bush as hard as I could, repeatedly. Though I couldn't see it, Ian's eyes rolled back up into his head as he bent forward trying to get support on the counter despite himself. As I kept deep dicking the big bitch I heard the telltale heavy sound of flesh hitting flesh as his massive dick was forcibly hitting the middle of his chest in rhythm to my thrusts. I couldn't see Ian's face, or anything in asides from his back for that matter due to it taking up my entire field of vision, but I could imagine what his sweaty face looked like as he became the bottom I fucking was making him. Eventually I no longer heard the sound of his dick bouncing off his chest but heard a gulping noise as Ian started to suck his down his own cock. Apparently he was too much man even for himself as I heard him gag every time I thrust forward and drove his dick further down his throat. Ian soon started to clench his massive ass and flexed it as hard as he could which I can only assume meant he was close to cumming, but then again so was I. Even with all of his strength he wasn't able to stop me completely as I redoubled my efforts on him. Soon I heard Ian swallowing as he started to grunt in worry and confusion as he came down his throat which began his next round of growth. His rhythmic clenching and vice like grip spurned me into cumming as well as keeping me inside him despite his wishes. Ian was forced to stand up as his arms were raised to parallel of the ground by his ballooning chest and widening back. His head was locked into place by his shoulders and chest as his dick kept up with his growing muscle at a neck break speed. Ian could see each volley travel up the multiple feet of his dick which was quite firmly stuck in his mouth. He was forced to swallow more and more as his balls tensed up and then expanded lower with each blast. Ian attempted to turn around and dislodge both me from his rear and his own convulsing dick from his mouth but was immediately tripped by his tights still wrapped around his knees. We both fell to the ground with a noise that echoed through the entire building, I was violently driven forward until I was fully impaling Ian's still bucking ass. I put my hands on his back, the only thing I could reach now to stabilize myself, as I emptied my soul into his innards. The fall finally dislodged Ian's angry dick from his mouth which continued to expel everything it had into the next room. I soon stopped my fourth outburst of the night and slowly disentangled myself from Ian. He was still cumming and growing but was finally tapering off as I stood up. I saw the mess I made leaking out of his cavernous ass crack onto his legs which were now thick enough that the only space between them was a small area where the knees met. Ian was still humping, as well as he could in his situation, with his tights now around his ankles just above his kicking socked feet. (I REALLY need to invest in a pair of those). I made my way to his front relishing every second of his size and the afterglow of the best sex I'm sure either of us have ever had. As I finally got to his head he let out one last volley a good foot out of his dick and slowly stopped growing. Ian was now so large that every limb was locked in stasis. He wasn't going to be leaving the building let alone moving without a great deal of assistance now. I can only guess that his drinking his own cum made the growth affect him so much more this time. I grabbed Ian's head by his hair at least as much as his neck and traps would allow me to. His cum covered face was barely coherent after his ordeal. I bent down and gave him a deep kiss before licking off all the cum left over from his face. A few seconds later my dick let out my fifth, and most massive, orgasm of the night all over Ian's head as I gained approximately 10lbs of muscle and 2" to my jumping cock. As I came off my growth high (God and that's only a fraction of what he felt and gained!) I asked Ian a few questions. Who was your supplier and who do you want me to get to help you? Both answers were Mike the gym owner, just like I thought. Do you have any more left? His locker was his response; I looked over into the lock room with the only door open asides from mine which had his gym bag poking out of it. With a smile I dropped his head which slumped back down onto his still hard and leaking dick. I made my way over to his locker and found both his cell phone and the mystery supplement. As I read the instructions, to avoid becoming just like Ian, I texted Mike from Ian's cell phone. I gave myself my first dose of the supplement, and new life, and felt even more exhilarated and energetic. I'm going to go do one hell of a fucking work out until Mike shows up at opening in a few hours, but for now I think Ian is ready for round two. I know I fucking am.
  20. arpeejay

    Manzeum (Part 7)

    By Richard Jasper Part 7 Part 6 can be found here: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/15442-manzeum-part-6/ In the 4th week, Roger had gained an average of 6 ½ pounds of muscle per day. Three days into the 5th week, Kevin pulled him into his office. “I think you’re growing faster than ever,” he said, pointing to the bariatric scale he kept there. “Hop on.” Roger did and the numbers flashed and flickered before they finally stopped. 345. “That can’t be right,” Roger said. “That’s as much as I gained in the first two weeks of the study!” Kevin motioned Roger to take off his shirt and join him front of the floor-to-ceiling mirror that lined one wall of his office. “You don’t believe the scale,” he said. “How about the mirror?” At 245 lbs. of solid, competition quality muscle, Kevin was rightly regarded as a “big dude.” And next to Roger, the new Roger, he looked like a little girl. “Let’s get out the tap measure,” Kevin suggested. Chest: 69 inches Biceps: 29 inches “You’ve added four inches to your chest and two inches to each of your arms in three days,” Kevin pointed out. “Do you believe it now?” Roger just shook his head. “At the rate I’m going…” he started… Kevin did some quick math in his head. “Another 10 days in the study? At this rate you’ll be about 425 when it ends.” Roger was rock hard. Kevin was rock hard. “Do you want to fuck me now or after you work out?” “Uh…” “Actually, that’s not a question, Big Daddy,” Kevin continued. “Fuck me now!” He ripped off his shorts and leapt onto Roger, wrapping his big arms around Roger’s 28-inch neck and his legs around Roger’s ripped-to-shreds 35-inch waist. Roger pushed his shorts down and started air-fucking Kevin then and there. “I hope you locked the door,” he whispered. Between gasps, Kevin replied. “It…locks…automatically!” +++ Dr. Peterson was upset. “Mr. Funderburk,” she said. “This has gone far enough.” It was time for Roger’s sixth and final shot but the endocrinologist wasn’t having it. “You’re 375 lbs.,” she said. “This CANNOT be good for you!” Roger worked on keeping his voice calm. It had dropped another octave over the past week and as someone who had always had a gay-accented tenor it was taking some getting used to. People reacted differently when you sounded like James Earl Jones! “Dr. Peterson, I know my growth has been unusual but you keep telling me that my blood sugar, my cholesterol, my blood pressure, are all consistent with those of an athlete in his early 30s,” Roger pointed out. “How can it NOT be good for me?” But Peterson was adamant. “I would like to see you again in a month,” she said. “If no untoward changes have occurred, we can talk about whether it’s appropriate to go forward.” Roger didn’t know whether to laugh or cry as he headed back to the gym. “She cut me off,” he told Kevin when he got there. Kevin looked the Big Man up and down. “Are you sure that’s a bad thing?” he asked. “You’re as big as a house and these days you look like my YOUNGER brother.” Roger pulled off his shirt and posed. 375 lbs. of solid muscle and a rich, luxuriant coat of brown-block curls that did nothing to hide the muscularity of his torso, legs and arms. For a musclebear lover like Kevin, he was a walking wet dream, with a 75-inch chest and 32-inch biceps. Plus there’s the foot-long dick, he said to himself. The ridiculously THICK foot-long dick! “Seriously,” Kevin continued. “There’s not a bodybuilder on Earth with your proportions. There are some bigger guys out there but none as built as you are. And some that are better conditioned but nowhere within a lightyear of your size. And with a fuck pole like that you ought to be doing porn. How much more do you need?” Roger growled. Any more that was an intimidating sound. “But I want more,” he said. “I don’t know why I know it but I know I’m destined for more.” Just then, Kevin’s phone buzzed. It was the front desk. “Someone to see YOU actually,” Kevin said. “From the clinic.” Roger’s ears poked up. “Really? Well, well,” he said. “Let ‘em in!” It was Alan, the hunky young African American bear nurse from Peterson’s office. A visibly NERVOUS, Alan, in fact, with a backpack slung over his broad beefy shoulders. His hands were trembling and his brow was sweaty. Roger’s reaction was instinctive. “C’mere, boy,” he said, gathering the young man in his giant arms. “Whatever it is, it’s OK.” Alan’s nose was buried in Roger’s massive hairy pecs. “Uh, Mr. Funderburk,” he said, speaking into Roger’s chest. “There’s something I need to tell you.” Roger let go and Alan collected himself. Before he could start, Roger put his calloused meat hooks on Alan’s shoulders. “And let’s drop the Mr. Funderburk stuff, OK? It’s just ‘Roger.’” Alan adjusted his pants. “I know Dr. Peterson wanted to put the study on hold,” Alan said. “But I had already prepped the dose. And I brought it with me.” Roger’s jaw dropped. “But but but….” He began. Kevin, who hadn’t been rendered speechless, picked up the thread: “But won’t you get into trouble? As in, serious, possibly permanent trouble?” Alan nodded. “Quite possibly, although, uh, well, I fiddled with the records,” he confessed. “As far as the system is concerned, this dose doesn’t exist.” Roger leaned over Kevin’s desk and dropped his shorts, exposing his beach-ball sized granite hairy glutes. “Then let’s have at it!” He didn’t have to ask twice. Alan pulled out an alcohol swabbed, wiped down the target, and plunged the syringe to the hilt. “That was fucking hot,” Kevin observed, casually massaging the log in his shorts. Roger turned and beamed at Alan. The young man – he looked like Donald Glover’s bigger, beefier, baby brother -- dropped to his knees when he saw the bulge in Roger’s gym shorts. “Please, sir, can I…?” Roger cupped the young man’s beautiful face in this hubcap-sized hands and pulled him to his feet, whereupon he gave him a deep, passionate kiss on his lovely lips. “I can’t thank you enough,” Roger said. Alan just stood there, eyes-closed, sighing. “I can think of one or two things that might suffice,” Kevin pointed out. Alan’s eyes flew open. “But maybe we should ask Alan first?” The Conclusion and an Epilogue can be found here: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/15458-manzeum-conclusion-epilogue/
  21. arpeejay

    Manzeum (Part 6)

    By Richard Jasper Part 6 Part 5 is here: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/15440-manzeum-part-5/ Roger felt like he had been pole-axed. His world trembled. “What am I going to do?!” he exclaimed. “Scott was on Manzeum, too! He was their shining success – and I’m growing even faster than he was!” Kevin put his hands on Roger’s shoulders. “Just because…” he started. Roger sank to the bed and buried his head in his hands. “You don’t understand, Kevin. This is everything I’ve ever wanted and now this!” Kevin crossed his big beefy arms and pursed his lips. “Uh, Roger, there’s something you need to know,” he said quietly. There was an odd, diffident quality to his voice. “I hate to speak ill of the dead,” Kevin continued. “But Scott had a major drug habit. Every PED you could think of. Plus…” Roger looked up. “Roger, there's no prettying it up. Scott was a cokehead,” Kevin added. “There, I said it. Not kind but true. And over the past couple of months from what I could tell he upped his consumption. Of everything.” Roger sighed. “So you’re saying it might not have been the Manzeum?” Kevin nodded. “Not on its own,” he agreed. “Maybe in combination with all the other stuff he was taking. But maybe not all.” Kevin cleared his throat. “And, you know, it’s really not up to you whether Peterson continues the trial,” he said. “But you also need to remember that you’ve put on at least 50 lbs. of muscle in three weeks, probably more than that if you count the shift in your body composition. If the trial ends, you’re not going to lose that.” Roger left his left arm and F-L-E-X-E-D. Twenty-three inches of grainy, veiny marble leapt up. So did Kevin’s dick. “If I never have another dose, I’m not going to let this go,” he said. +++ The next day, the doctor gave him a call. Kevin tried to listen in but all he heard from Roger was “yeah,” “yeah,” and “OK,” interspersed with grunts, and, finally, “that’s good to hear.” When he ended his call, Roger looked, well, relieved. Not happy, but relieved. “The toxicology report came back,” he said. “Technically, I’m not supposed to know anything but she told me anyway. You were right about the PEDs. And the cocaine. The coroner is going with ‘heart attack’ as the official cause of death but privately he told Peterson that it was a wonder Scott’s chest didn’t actually just pop out of his chest.” Kevin whooshed. “Very, very sad,” Roger added. “Such a beautiful man.” And I never did fuck him, he added to himself. “Yes, he was,” Kevin agreed. “And seriously fucked up, too.” Over the next week Roger worked harder than he had ever done in his life. He was going to the gym five times a day – once each for chest, back, legs, shoulders, and arms – and spending two hours on each session. Kevin was agog. The big man had just as much energy at the end of each session as he did at the beginning and he was just as strong for his last session as he was for his first. “You’re, uh, not ‘supplementing,’ are you?” he asked at the end of the first day. Roger stood and hit a mind-blowing most muscular. “Baby aspirin,” he said, dead serious. “Calcium. Fish Oil. Multivitamin. That’s it.” Kevin didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. That week Roger gained a little more than 6 lbs. per day, all muscle. The night before Roger’s appointment, Kevin got out the scale and the tape measure. The results were, well, astounding. Or they would have been if Kevin hadn’t seen it happen with his own eyes. Weight: 315 lbs. Chest: 65 inches Waist: 33 inches Arms: 27 inches “And let’s not forget this one,” Kevin said, grabbing Roger’s monster dick. 10 ½ x 9 “Fuck me,” Kevin said softly, after calling off the numbers. Roger chuckled. “Whenever you’re ready…” Looking up at Roger’s face while the Big Man pounded his ass into oblivion, it occurred to Kevin that all signs of aging had vanished from Roger’s visage. He could pass for 38, Kevin thought. Easily. More so than I can and I *am* 38. And then Roger’s massive rod and powerfucking took him over the edge. He lost consciousness. +++ Roger’s visit with Peterson was understandably awkward. “I am ambivalent about continuing,” the doctor said. “Losing a patient is devastating…” Roger placed his hand on her shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. “On the other hand, there’s NO indication that the Manzeum had anything to do with his incident,” she continued. “In fact, weird as it sounds, there was NO indication that Manzeum was anywhere in his system.” Roger sat on the examining table, his massive veiny, corded forearms resting on thighs bigger than the average man’s waist. “I want to continue,” he said. “And am I not correct in thinking that Scott Allen was actually doing his SECOND course of Manzeum? And that he had zero detectable side-effects during his first six weeks?” Peteson shrugged her shoulders. “No physical side effects,” she qualified. “In retrospect it was clear that he was exhibiting signs of mania...” Roger arched an eyebrow. “Whereas I am still in my first course…” he pointed out. Peterson flapped her hands. “And, no, you’ve exhibited NO signs of mania whatsoever,” she agreed. “Happiness, yes. Dedication and perseverance, too. But you’re not too keyed up to talk about it.” Internally, Roger let himself relax. “So we’re continuing?” he asked. She nodded, then paused. “Just don’t forget that this is totally weird, OK? Nobody gains 95 lbs. of muscle in a month!” Roger smiled. You ain’t seen nothin’ yet, he said to himself. Peterson left the room and the nurse – a new one, a hunky bear boy named Alan, apparently – came in to deliver the shot. Roger gave him a toothy grin. Oh, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet! Part 7 is here: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/15455-manzeum-part-7/
  22. arpeejay

    Manzeum

    By Richard Jasper Part 1 “Mr. Funderburk, I would like to try you on a new medication.” Elizabeth Peterson, M.D., was Roger Funderburk’s latest endocrinologist. A pretty young thing (well, early 30s but compared to Roger’s late 50s that was a “young’un” in his estimation) in a geeky sort of way. The wavy brown hair, the porcelain complexion, and light blue eyes more than compensated for the lab coat and the thick glasses. Not that Roger was one to judge – he was gay as a goose! But Dr. Peterson reminded him of his beloved nieces, Amy and Erin, and that was enough to seal the deal. “This particular medication is very new but it has shown very good results in lowering overall blood sugar, especially with respect to post-meal peaks,” Peterson continued. “It’s a bit different in that it’s a testosterone derivative, so it’s really only applicable to male patients.” Roger was intrigued. At 58, he was more than a decade past his diagnosis of Type 2 Diabetes Mellitus and still struggling to find a diet / exercise combo that would get his glucose levels into a decent range. Thus far, everything he’d tried had had completely random results. It didn’t help that, as was the case with most men over 40, Roger’s testosterone was on the low end of normal. His difficulty in getting to the gym was exacerbated by a feeling of diminishing returns. Strength levels, muscle mass, all of it on a downhill slope. And at this point I’m closer to 75 than I am 40, Roger thought to himself. “Sounds intriguing,” Roger blurted, coming out of his reverie with a start. “What about side effects?” Peterson pursed her lips. “Well, believe it or not, patients tend not to lose any weight. On the other hand, they do show a decrease in adipose fat and an increase in lean muscle mass.” Roger grinned. “That’s the only downside?” At 5’10 and 220 lbs. Roger had broad shoulders, a thick chest, beefy arms, and impressive legs for someone his age. He’d spent enough years in the weight room to build an OK bod, sort of an offseason pocket linebacker look, but any more in addition to everything sagging, there was a nicely rounded tummy to go along with it, a side-effect of age and the multiple medications he took to control T2DM. “Uh, well, to tell you the truth, there have been some cases of actual weight gain, in the neighborhood of 5-10 lbs. We can’t really explain it but if anything the glucose and serum cholesterol numbers for these individuals look even better than the typical results,” Peterson, shrugging her shoulders. Clearing her throat, she continued. “And, uh, well, in these individuals there have also been increases in libido and, uh, even hirsuteness.” Roger gaped. “I think I can live with those side-effects, if they should appear,” he reassured Dr. Peterson. “How do we proceed?” Peterson smiled. “I’m so glad to hear that you’re willing to give this a try, Mr. Funderburk. You’ll be my first patient to do so,” she said. “The protocol involves a once-a-week injection for six weeks. After the six-week period is completed, we will assess the results and determine whether to continue with bi-weekly or in some cases monthly injections.” Roger pondered. “Once a week for six weeks I can manage,” he pointed out. “But every other week seems like a big commitment. I do travel a lot, you know.” Three years previously, at age 55, Roger had taken a very generous “retirement” buyout from an internationally known financial services company that was undergoing a restructuring. He had enough to live comfortably and travel frequently for the next 40 years, although thanks to the T2DM he seriously doubted he’d be around anywhere near that long. “Oh, I was forgetting,” Dr. Peterson explained. “The bi-weekly or monthly injections are self-administered. It comes with a pen like you use with Lantus or Humalog.” Roger gave Dr. Peterson a wry smile. “In that case, count me in! My next trip isn’t until the end of October so plenty of time to get started with this and establish a routine!” Peterson gave him two thumbs up. “I think you’re going to be pleased,” she said, glad to have an opportunity to try out this new product. Some of the whispers had seemed far-fetched. Now she would have a chance to observe the results first-hand. “I’ll have Melanie come in to administer the injection.” Peterson exited and five minutes later the RN, Melanie, arrived with a tray and an innocuous looking hypodermic. “In the buttock?” he asked and Melanie nodded. So he turned, dropped his Brooks Brothers khaki shorts, and slid his Calvin Klein boxer briefs down a few inches. “A little pinch,” Melanie said. It took a bit longer than Roger expected but the pinch was nearly non-existent and as the medicine entered his system he felt a warm glow expanding outwards from the injection site. “You may feel slightly flushed but nothing to worry about,” Melanie explained. “If you still feel flushed tomorrow morning, give us a call.” And that was that. Heading away from the clinic in his Audi convertible, Roger impulsively made a right instead of a left. He always kept a gym bag in his car, even though most of the time he didn’t use it. Today, though, the warm glow of the injection seemed to be telling him, “Let’s see how long you can keep this going!” Roger flipped on the radio. I had a dream so big and loud, I jumped so high I touched the clouds, Woah-oh-oh Oh-oh-oh He smiled and started singing along. “This is gonna be the best day of my life…” Part 2 is here... https://muscle-growth.org/topic/10930-manzeum-part-2/
  23. scarletic

    Hard at Work [Part 4 added - 7/23/18]

    Hi, everyone! So I'm starting this experimental series to see if a more traditional narrative would work here, and I would really appreciate all feedback and critique to help me improve. This is mostly going to involve more plot and character than growing, although there will still be a lot of growing done. It just won't be the main focus (for now). Writing is something I don't normally get to do on a regular basis, but it's something I want to make a living out of, so all advice is incredibly welcome. I am more than willing to alter the way the narrative develops and is written depending on how people prefer their pacing and writing. Thanks in advance, and enjoy! 😊 Hard at Work [Part 1 - 2 - 3 - 4] PART 1 Working at my job wasn’t exactly the most exciting thing in the world, but it paid the bills. On an average day, I would sit at my desk, wondering how a bachelor’s degree in Chemistry got me a job in human resources. It’s not like I had particularly good chemistry with other people either. During my time at the company so far, I’ve only been able to get close to two people. One of them was a co-worker of mine named Marcus. He often pulled pranks on me and made childish jokes at my expense whenever we took a break for coffee. Normally, him being a 23-year-old man, anyone would expect some sort of maturity or sense of responsibility. Marcus was nothing of the sort. He played around far too much and just did whatever the hell he wanted to. Every attempt our boss had at scolding him fell on deaf ears. With any other employee, our boss’ words would stop us dead in our tracks. Boss had that charismatic, authoritative aura about him. Unlike Marcus, our boss, Mr. Wesley Smith, or just Wes, took everything seriously. He had a reputation to uphold. Sure, he had his fair share of dad jokes every now and then, but people in the workplace were already so used to Marcus’ absurd antics that nobody ever really noticed. The three of us were often referred to around the office as the “threesome of power.” In one way or another, we all held some sort of power around the office. Wes had his obvious influence and status. Marcus had his absurdity and over-all charisma. Compared to them, I didn’t have as much. All anyone ever told me was that I was the glue that held together our little threesome. In my opinion, it’s just an excuse to call us a threesome since we’re always together. I wasn’t a big fan of the name, honestly. Especially since I was the only gay one. The main reason people chose to describe us as a “threesome” specifically is that Marcus and Wes were probably the most attractive and sought-after guys at the workplace. Marcus was 5’11” and pretty damn attractive. He had wavy, blonde hair that looked like it was streaked with chocolate, and his eyebrows were incredibly thick and a deep chestnut. Of the three of us, he also had the best body. He had been a model in his university years, so he developed a toned, muscled body with a deep V-shaped torso and disproportionate pecs and shoulders. On the other hand, Wes wasn’t bad looking, but all his time spent in bars showed. He was a good-looking man for his age, 31, having South-East Asian genes, and he had a strong square face that accentuated his stocky figure, being only 5’6”. He did go to the gym after work, but he developed a gut after all the vodka. People often say his most attractive feature is his cat eyes. His eyebrows also tilted inwards, so he always had this fierceness about him. It didn’t seem like he was meant to be built in any way besides a small tank either. While Marcus and Wes were the stars of our threesome, I was labeled the “DUFF.” I was only 24, but the new terms the kids kept coming up with always got lost on me. I was the least attractive among us, I must admit. 5’7” isn’t exactly a height anyone would be flaunting off. It’s not that I looked like Quasimodo though. I was just… average—nothing spectacular about me. On one particularly rainy day, Marcus approached me at my desk, wearing his favorite sky blue button-down. He leaned over the divider with a coffee in his hand and sipped it so loudly it echoed. “What are we gonna do about the rain? Do you wanna just move bar night to Wes’ condo again?” he asked. “Yeah, but have you asked him? We might still be banned since you wrecked his condo the last time.” Marcus flubbed his lips, nearly spilling his coffee on my desk. “Don’t worry about it! Wes’ll understand. Besides, this time we got someone to clean our shit.” “I’m not cleaning your mess this time, Marcus.” “Not you, stupid. I meant the new intern. Wes said he was coming in today.” I looked at him, puzzled. “What new intern? No one told me about any new interns.” “That’s because you never join the meetings.” “What? The last meeting we had was two months ago, and literally all we talked about was how you put red food coloring in the water tanks to make it look like we were drinking blood.” Marcus laughed. “Well, now we just have meetings at the bar. I managed to convince him to move our meetings to the conference room with the dancers.” He chuckled. I sighed. “Fine, whatever. What’s his name? The intern, I mean.” “Ah, wait.” Eric brought out his phone. “I’ll ask Wes.” We waited for the phone to pick up. As soon as we heard Wes’ voice, Marcus didn’t hesitate to yell. “Yo, Wes!” I could hear an audible sigh come from the phone. “What’s up, Marcus? I’m kinda busy right now.” “I just told Dory about the new intern, but I forgot his name. What was it again?” “Froy Adamson. 20 years old from Harbridge University. He just texted and said he was coming up. Could you two let him in and show him around? Thanks.” “Sure thing, sir.” Marcus bounced his head to the side and looked at me as if he were planning something. He always did his squinted eyes, raised eyebrows, and pouted mouth. It was a staple of his. He wasn’t fooling anyone doing a face like that. I wonder if he ever noticed. He put the phone back in his pocket. “Well, Dory, looks like you’ve got some more work to do.” I knew it. “Seriously? Didn’t he tell us to handle him? To-ge-ther?” Marcus shrugged. “Well, I’ve got some work to do, and I’m reeaally tired.” He yawned. “You can handle the kid by yourself, right?” I said yes, and he was off, walking back to his desk. I don’t know why I let him do this to me. He’s lucky he was hot. Before I could prepare myself for the new intern, there was a knock coming from the glass door. I got up and headed over. Only people without access cards couldn’t get in and had to knock, which meant it had to be the intern. If I heard correctly, his name was supposed to be Froy, and a student at Harbridge… damn, someone was loaded. I got to the glass door and saw him standing outside. He was wearing a black button-down with his sleeves rolled up and skintight black jeans. They must have been pretty big too since he looked like he had to be at least 6’1”. His jet black hair was short and cropped with little spikes sticking up. He had a cute face too. He had the most precious baby button nose and pronounced dimples, making him look younger than he actually was. I wouldn’t be surprised if girls crushed on him everywhere. He had a decently lean body, but he definitely had bodybuilder potential by the way his broad shoulders stuck outwards, much like Marcus’. However, it didn’t seem like he was the braggart type. If anything, he was a bookworm. He looked like he lived and breathed in a library. All he was missing was a pair of glasses, but instead, he had the most perfect eyelashes. The poor thing seemed soaked by the rain. I opened the door for him and let him come inside, causing him to shiver in his shirt from the cold, freezer-like office temperature. He smiled at me and giggled nervously. “Sorry, sir,” he said with a nervous smile. “I forgot to bring an umbrella. I didn’t think it would rain today.” My heart hadn’t fluttered in so long by a guy’s voice. The last time I felt this elevated was when I was still in college and chatting up the star football athlete before he got caught doping and got expelled. I missed having crushes like this. Thankfully, Froy seemed to be legal. A co-worker of mine already got fired once for having “intimate relations” with an underage intern. I wasn’t going to be next. “It’s fine. Are you Froy?” I asked. He nodded. “Yes, sir. I was supposed to start last week, but my mother had an emergency at the hospital, so I couldn’t leave.” “It’s fine, don’t worry. Family first,” I said. “Did you bring an extra shirt? You might get sick if you wear that wet shirt here all day.” “No, sir. I don’t have anything to change into. Sorry.” I grabbed his forearm. “It’s fine. Here, I’ll let you borrow one of my backup shirts.” “Sir, are you sure?” “Yeah, it’s fine.” I brought him to my desk where I grabbed him a seat. My co-workers who passed by would smile at him, enticed by his cute face and meek demeanor. He’d greet them back with a small wave and shy smile. Some people even came up and asked me if he was my new boyfriend. How many times did I have to tell everyone that I’ve never had a boyfriend before? They were just making the boy uncomfortable. I brought out a plain white shirt from my emergency kit and handed it over to him. He looked it over and thinking about it now, it was probably too small for him. Such was a con of being six inches shorter than someone. He held it up to the light, trying to estimate its size. “I don’t think it’s gonna fit,” I said. “Could I try it on, sir? Just to be sure?” “Sure, go ahead. Just don’t tear it.” I leaned back into my seat as I watched him begin unbuttoning his button-down. At the back of my mind, I knew this was leaning towards sexual harassment—and on the first day of his internship to boot—but I couldn’t help myself. The kid wasn’t reacting negatively either, so I guessed he was okay with it. A lawsuit was the last thing I needed. He started from the top-down, exposing his lean muscle underneath. He had a decently-sized chest for his leanness, and I never noticed how perky his nipples were underneath the black fabric either. There was no body hair on him too, just like Wes. “Nice abs,” I said. He blushed. “Ah, thank you, sir.” “You go to the gym or something? You play sports?” “No, sir. I used to be part of the gymnastics team, but I quit so I could focus on my studies.” Froy raised up his arms and tried squeezing into my shirt. He stuck his head through the tight hole and did his best to stretch out my shirt to fit in as much as possible. He looked ridiculous. It was like a man trying to wear a child’s dress. “You’ve still got a nice frame. If you went to the gym, I bet you could build it up easily,” I said. He looked ridiculous in my shirt. The sleeves didn’t even reach past his shoulders, so the fabric dug into his armpits. The shirt only reached the first set of abs, exposing his core and defined pelvis. It looked like a crop top. How he even got into something so tight is still a mystery to me. “Sir, I’m not sure I can wear this.” “Obviously.” I punched his abs. “Come on, let’s go ask someone else. I’m too short to be lending you my clothes.” “You’re not too short, sir.” “Yeah, you’re just too tall.” I told him to take off the shirt. He looked like he was in too much pain to be wearing something so ridiculous before we found a better replacement. As he raised it over his head and pulled his arms through the sleeves, he accidentally tore it down the side from the left sleeve down to the hem. He froze in panic. “Sir, I’m so sorry, sir, I didn’t mean to break your shirt. It was an accident, sir, I swear.” “Don’t worry about it,” I said. “It’s just a shirt.” His lean torso was now exposed to the cold of the office again, but at least he wasn’t squeezed so tightly in my shirt. I didn’t want to kill him before Marcus did. I couldn’t afford that kind of blood on my hands at my age. No way my salary was going to cover it. I led the tall kid over to Marcus’ desk at the other end of the office. Marcus looked visibly disturbed, watching in silence as I approached with a tall, shirtless kid following closely behind me. I didn’t know what he was going to say or do. His eyes just kept darting back and forth between us, seemingly asking me, “What the fuck is going on?” “Hey, Marcus, this is the intern, and he—” “Why is he shirtless?” Marcus interrupted. I looked back at Froy, looking lost as always. “He got wet in the rain, and I told him I’d get him a new shirt. I tried giving him mine, but, uh…” Marcus raised an eyebrow. “But what? Dory, I need to tell you as a friend that you are very small. Did you try lending him your shirt? Was it too small? Did you come all the way here, to my cubicle, while I’m working, to ask for a shirt from me?” “Yes.” “Alright, here you go.” Marcus dug into his drawer and tossed Froy a clean, black shirt. Froy looked confused but put on the shirt. It fit him perfectly. Thankfully, Marcus’ tailored shirts to fit his broad shoulders and chest fit Froy just right. It was a bit short at the hem though. His pelvis would peek whenever he moved, but he was well-covered. The sleeves also accentuated what muscle he had on his arms, as expected from Marcus. “I have to say though, he’s got a nice body,” Marcus said. “The ‘overtime work’ he’ll be doing later is gonna be a nice work-out.” “Marcus, he’s not a maid.” “And I’m not Frida Kahlo.” “You aren’t.” “Shut up,” Marcus said. “Hey, kid, you’ll be coming with us after work, right?” Froy’s eyes grew wide. “Uh…” “Marcus, it’s only his first day. He doesn’t even know our names yet!” “It’ll be fiiiine. My name’s Marcus Fringe, and there’s your Sir Dorian Yale. You can just call us Marcus and Dory. Our boss is Sir Wesley Smith: short, stocky Asian dude. You can call him Wes. If you ever wanna come work for us, you could be a part of our little circle of friends here. We got cookies.” “Oh, I like cookies,” Froy whispered. “Stop fucking with my intern, Marcus.” “You’re not my mom.” Wes’ office was right in front of Marcus’ cubicle. Any time Marcus made too much noise or whenever Wes would leave for the washroom and caught Marcus doing something stupid, Wes would be the first to scold him. He often threatened to lower his pay, but Marcus didn’t care. They were too close to actually do anything like that. As we were talking, the door to Wes’ office opened. He walked out, wearing a skintight banana yellow collared shirt that showed off his muscles and small gut. Every shirt in his wardrobe seemed to be skintight. I remember him telling us once that he was raised to only wear the tightest clothing because it makes you look bigger. He was only 5’6”, so I could understand why. “Why are you making so much noise, Marcus?” he asked, standing in the doorway. “Oh.” I waved at him. “Hi, sir. This is Froy, the intern. I was just asking Marcus for an extra shirt since he got wet in the rain.” “Well, take care of him then. Show him around the floor or something, I dunno,” Wes said. “Oh, and Dory…” “Yes, sir?” “Take him out with ya later, aight? We’re gonna have a little fun.” Oh god. “Yes, sir.” Wes was returning to his office when Froy spoke up. “Oh, sir!” he said. “How do I get through the door? I don’t have an access card.” “Hm? You don’t need an access card. You just grab the handle, twist it, then pull. That’s how you open a door.” “Wes, never speak again,” Marcus said. “What about this?” Wes whispered. “Or this ♪?” he sang. “I’m done,” I said. “And I’m just getting started!” He fired double finger guns at me with the silliest grin, laughing at himself immediately afterwards. We all separated and went back to our work for the day. I finished up the rest of my work as fast as I could so that I’d have more time to tour Froy around the building. It was just a hunch, but I thought he’d appreciate the convenience store. The store has an unlimited sundae cone deal where you could get as much ice cream as you wanted as long as it’s in one continuous swirl and it doesn’t fall over. When we got there, I saw his eyes light up like a child at the carnival. He wasted no time and immediately ordered a sundae cone. I didn’t even have to tell him. It seemed like he was used to doing this sort of thing already. By the time the ice cream was five inches tall, I was getting worried. It looked like it would fall at any moment. “Froy, are you sure you wanna keep going?” “Yes, sir! I’ve done this before. My mom calls me a master at this.” By the time it reached 8 inches tall, he stopped the machine. He stood still at first, watching it intently. It looked like he was trying to connect his soul to the sundae, becoming one with its spirit or something. When he finally got it to stabilize, he smiled. “See, sir?” he said. Then he raised it up and dunked it in his mouth, all the way down to the cone. My eyes grew wide. Froy just took in 8 inches of freezing cold sundae in his mouth like it was nothing. “What the fuck? Did you just eat the entire thing in one bite?” He nodded, still swallowing the ice cream. When he finished, he accidentally exhaled into my face, filling my nose with his cold, breath-infused chocolate smell. He apologized and offered to wipe it off my nose. I had to tell him to stop since he still had the cone to finish. “How the fuck did you do that?” “My brothers taught me when I was younger how to exercise my gag reflex so I could take in more things. I could fit a whole foot-long in my mouth too!” he said. “It just got kinda messy… so we had to stop.” His face sunk. The cute smile he wore faded away after it seemed like he remembered something. “What happened?” “They, uh, taught me to give them blowjobs when I was 12. I thought it was normal for a few years, then they got arrested for selling drugs when I was 15. My mother told me they were horrible to me and told me what they were doing to me was wrong. So now I’m trying to find a job to pay for my mother’s hospital bills since I’m her only family left. She already used up all her savings on my tuition.” I felt horrible for him and found myself hugging him. He was stiff and caught in surprise at first, but he softened up and wrapped his arms around me too. I didn’t know he lived like this. I couldn’t take advantage of someone like him. It wouldn’t be right. “I’m so sorry.” He gave his ice cream a quick lick. “Don’t worry, sir, it’s fine. I’m over it now. I still miss them though.” “Who? Your brothers? They molested you as a kid. You shouldn’t be missing them. They deserve to rot in prison.” “We used to play games every day outside our house. They even bought me a goldfish once for my 14th birthday since it was all they could afford with their own money. I named him Pudge.” We headed back to my desk upstairs after finishing his ice cream and filing for his access card. The issue with his brothers was something we didn’t want to bring up too much in case he got triggered. More than half the office had already gone home for the day. Marcus, Wes, and I planned to leave for Wes’ condo at 8pm with Froy together. After I finished up, I asked Froy if he was okay with it. It was only his first day as an intern. I wouldn’t be surprised if he declined. Who knows what we might have been planning to do to him outside office hours? “It’s okay with me, sir.” “Are you sure? I haven’t even told you what we were doing.” “Oh, uh,” he said before chuckling nervously. “We’re going to your sir Wes’s condo to drink. Wes and Marcus just want you to be their sober caretaker, so you don’t have to go if you don’t want to.” Froy waved his hands. “Oh, no, sir, it’s okay with me. I’m used to being the sober one with my friends.” “Oh, okay. And don’t worry about something bad happening to you. None of us have ever done anything crazy before. Besides, Marcus is straight, and Wes is bi, but he has a family. I’m the only gay one here.” His eyebrows shot up. “You’re gay, sir?” “Yeah, why?” He looked away. “Nothing, sir.” That led me to wonder. Was he also gay? I guessed I could always figure that out some other time. After we packed up, we headed down to the basement carpark where Marcus and Wes were waiting for us at Wes’ truck. There were paper cups everywhere. It seemed like they’d been waiting there for a few years by the way they were lounging around and drinking coffee endlessly. When we got there, Marcus walked up to me and grabbed me by the shoulders. “What the fuck took you so long?” he asked. His pointed gaze shot into my skull. “You told me not to fuck with your intern, but is it really me you should be worrying about?” “We were just finishing up some shit. It took longer than expected. Sorry ‘bout it.” “Just get in the fucking truck already!” Wes yelled. “The vodka isn’t gonna drink itself!” I sat in the passenger seat, with Marcus and Froy in the back. It was the system we developed together when we first started hanging out at bars a few months ago. Marcus hated seatbelts and feeling claustrophobic, and I preferred the safety of the seatbelt. The three of us normally went out to the bar down the street on foot, but tonight, we decided to head to Wes’ condo instead to avoid the rain. The only thing different was that we had Froy with us. “Hey, kid, what was your name again?” Marcus asked. “Uh, sir, Froy Adamson, sir.” “Froy?” Marcus began to chuckle. He was visibly struggling to hold in his laughter. “Like fro-yo?” Froy was silent. “...Yes, sir. Frozen yogurt.” Marcus released his contained laughter, nearly keeling over his seat. Froy became worried and began to panic. Wes and I had to reassure him that making fun of people’s names was just something Marcus did on a daily basis to everyone around the office. Marcus was only a year younger than me, but he had the heart of a child that he never grew out of. We loved that about him. Marcus placed a hand on Froy’s shoulder. “I like this kid,” he said. Froy blushed. “I’m sure you do,” Wes said. “Everyone loves yogurt.” “Don’t predate on my intern, Marcus!” “I don’t wanna hear that from you, Dory!” Marcus said. “Hey, kid. I’ve been planning on going back to the gym again. If you ever wanna come with, just tell me, okay? You look like you’d be a great workout partner.” “Hey, what about me? Why do you ask the intern before your boss who you KNOW goes to the gym?” Wes asked. “How tall are you again, Wes?” Marcus asked. “Right now, about as high as your chances at a promotion, Marcus.” Marcus threw his arms around Wes’ seat. “Hey, come on! It was just a joke! It’s just too hard to be gym buddies with someone so short. Plus you’ve got that tiny gut.” “I can’t help it! Vodka might as well be my blood of Christ.” “So you’re a cannibal?” “What do you think happened to my first boyfriend?” The conversation continued for the next half hour on the road. Froy and I remained silent for the most part while Marcus and Wes bantered, with us being brought in every so often as jokes. Marcus couldn’t let go of “fro-yo.” The rain blocked the streets and kept us in traffic longer than we would have wanted. Wes began getting calls from his wife, asking about where he was since his kids were getting impatient after being locked up for so long. When we got to the forest separating Wes’ condo complex from the city district, Marcus brought out these small white pills he hid inside a tic-tac box. The resemblance was uncanny. Froy and I watched him, unaware of what the pills would do. No one was around to help if Marcus did something stupid. “Hey, Wes. You want a tic-tac?” Marcus asked. Froy and I watched in silence, fully aware of what Marcus was trying to do. “If you’re trying to bribe me for a pay raise again, it’s gonna take more than a tic-tac this time.” “No, seriously, come on. It’s just a candy. Completely free. No strings attached.” Wes held out a hand, and Marcus placed one on his palm. “This better not be another one of your fucking pranks, Marcus. The last one is still giving my kids diarrhea.” Wes threw the small white pill in his mouth without any hesitation. Suddenly, his stomach grumbled loudly. “God damn it, Marcus.” Marcus laughed and slammed his hand repeatedly against the back of Wes’ seat. Froy shifted closer to the door in fear. “What did you give him, Marcus?” I asked. “Dying in a car crash with you was not on my list of things to-do today.” “Mine too,” Froy mumbled. “Relax! It’s harmless. I already tried it on my dog, and nothing happened to her.” “I’m not a dog, Marcus! I’m your boss!” “And I’m not a scientist!” “That doesn’t make things any better, Marcus—Oh, my god... what the fuck is going on...” Wes looked uncomfortable, shifting around like there was a cactus on his seat. I looked down and saw that he was growing a tent in his pants. At first, I thought it was just viagra, but then a wet spot began to form. Wes’ face was red as a tomato and was completely speechless. I could smell the familiar smell that filled my room after school as a kid. Wes came. He came right in front of all of us. He didn’t even have to touch himself or do anything for it either. I looked back at Marcus and Froy, and Marcus’ face was frozen in a face of pure glee. He had the expression of a child witnessing Santa for the first time and couldn’t be happier. Froy on the other hand was completely mortified. The poor thing didn’t know how to react. Wes was barely able to keep his focus on the road because of the way he was feeling. He just came in his pants. I couldn’t even begin to imagine what that pill did to him. Wes stopped the truck at a nearby tree and turned off the truck, running out and checking the damages at a tree out of sight. The three of us followed suit. Marcus didn’t even look the least bit guilty about what he just did. Froy stood by me, waiting and watching for what happened next. “What the fuck did you give me?” Wes asked. Marcus waved his hands in the air. “Nothing! I swear it was just a bunch of random shit I found in my kitchen. I didn’t think it would do anything.” “Well, it did! Now my favorite pants are ruined.” Wes stepped back into the moonlight where we saw a massive wet spot all over his crotch. If we didn’t know it was cum, we might’ve mistaken it for piss just by its sheer quantity. I didn’t think it was possible to cum so much. Judging by the defined outline running down his left thigh as well, it seemed he was hiding more than just one secret. The short man had to compensate somewhere. “God damn it, Marcus.” “Come on, I’m sorry. I swear I didn’t mean it. I was gonna try it on myself, but I wanted to see if it—” “If it killed me?” “Well, no, but—” “I can’t believe I already wet myself… I haven’t even had a fucking bottle yet. You owe me for this.” Marcus shot me a look of relieved anguish, knowing he wasn’t going lose his job or his friendship. He walked up to Wes and helped him clean up by the tree. While Wes and Marcus were off cleaning up, Froy and I wandered a bit off to the forest to take in the beautiful nighttime scenery overlooking the city. The city lights shined brightly over the trees. They gave off an iridescent spotlight-lit night sky that shadowed the tree leaves and branches, blocking out the stars but lighting up the darkness. “This is a great view,” I said. “Yes, sir,” Froy replied. As we were enjoying our quiet time alone together, Froy noticed what looked like a shooting star in the empty sky. Wes and Marcus came over and joined us in staring at the falling light. A thought occurred to me, however, that this was not how falling stars normally worked. It looked as though it were literally falling out of the sky. I’m pretty sure falling stars aren’t supposed to look like they’re coming straight at us. “Hey, that’s no fucking shooting star, you idiots! That’s a meteor!” Wes said. “Hide behind something!” We could barely react when we saw that it was already a building’s height away from us. Froy and I hid behind a nearby tree. Marcus sprinted across to the truck with Wes. The burning rock rang a piercing loud screech in our ears before crash landing into the clearing between us and the truck. Flaming debris flew everywhere, covering the area in a black soot. Smoke filled the air for a good few minutes until we were able to breathe and see things again. All four of us emerged from our hiding spots and eyed the strange rock. Froy, Wes, and I approached it hesitantly, watching it from a distance in case it had any surprises waiting to pop out and do some serious harm. It could have had some new viruses or small flesh-eating aliens hiding inside. I highly doubted our job’s insurance program covered space AIDS. Meanwhile, while three of us were being careful, Marcus decided to make a headstart and gingerly walked up to it. He stuck out his hands and felt the intense heat emanating from the meteor. “What are you doing, Marcus?! Get back here where it’s safe,” Wes said. Marcus looked back and smiled. “Relaaax, it’s not gonna do anythingI” When the rest of us got to surround the meteor, it seemed to have cooled off. All four of us examined it closely, checking for any dangerous movements or glowing substances sticking out. For the next few minutes, it just seemed like it was a regular, boring old rock—from space. It didn’t grow a face and sing show tunes like I expected. I’d be lying if I said wasn’t disappointed. “It just seems like a rock,” Froy said. “Obviously,” Marcus said. “But what’s inside?” “If it's anything like your head, not much,” Wes said. “Then there’s nothing to worry about, right?” Marcus stepped into the crater and slammed his hands onto the meteor. He began pressing down on it with his body weight, trying to pressure it to crack open and reveal whatever monstrosity was inside of it. Froy and I backed away while Wes stepped forward and tried prying Marcus off of it. “Marcus, what are you doing?! Stop!” “I just wanna see what’s inside! It might have space diamonds, Wes!” Marcus let out a yell as he used all his strength and cracked open the meteor. From the crack, a neon green liquid splurged out, spilling onto Marcus’ shirt. He panicked, wondering what the hell the scentless, luminescent goo was, when suddenly the crack opened up further. It erupted, blasting a mortified Marcus with the strange gunk. He was covered head to toe, front to back, unable to even open his mouth or eyes in pure horror. The meteor now looked unstable. It was rumbling, and cracks began spreading from where Marcus first breached its outer shell. More and more of the green liquid spurted out. It didn’t seem long before it would explode. Marcus grumbled for help, running towards Wes. “Hey, stop! Don’t get that shit on me! I just got my pants dry!” Wes yelled. Before Marcus could even get to him, the meteor exploded. Nuclear green slime flew everywhere. Marcus got blasted back onto the ground by the sheer amount he was covered in. He didn’t look like he could move very well at all anymore. Wes was yelling out Marcus’ name when the goo flew into his mouth and covered his entire front from head to toe. I could hear him yelling as he swallowed it. “Sir!” As the meteor exploded towards us, Froy ran up to me. He used his body as a shield to block me from the slime, with his back spread out against the meteor. I looked up at him and saw fear in his eyes. Neither of us could move from where we were as we were frozen in absolute shock about what just happened. The meteor settled down, and there was green slime absolutely everywhere. It coated the trees, the grass, the soil, everything. Marcus was absolutely drenched in it, struggling to even stand up. Wes ran to a tree and began vomiting, trying to expel whatever he swallowed and trying to get himself clean again. Froy’s entire backside and his arms were completely covered. He shook his body as much as he could to try and get it off of him. “What the fuck just happened?” I asked. “That fucking—pfthuh—piece of shit meteor just fucking exploded!” Wes yelled, spitting out the remnants. “Are we going to fucking die?!” Marcus yelled, on his knees, crying in anguish at the sky, looking like a grotesque smile monster. “I don’t wanna fucking die, god!” “This is all your fault!” Wes said. “I’m fucking aware of that, Wes! I wasn’t expecting the meteor to be a fucking water balloon filled with green shit!” “Okay, everyone, just relax!” I said. “We just need to get clean and report this to the police so they can clean it up or something.” Marcus and Wes turned and glared at me, clean and dry from head to toe. “We can’t tell anyone about this! If the authorities find out we fucked with some meteor and got caught with some disease, then we might be forced to spend time in a lab until we die,” Wes said. Marcus pointed at me. “And why the fuck are you dry? Did you tell your little boytoy intern to be your shield?!” “No, he ran up to me himself. I didn’t tell him to do anything, Marcus.” “Fucking shit, man…” I stood watch by the truck while Froy, Wes, and Marcus cleaned themselves up by the river. It was nearly midnight when they got back looking absolutely exhausted after trying to get every drop of slime off their bodies for the past few hours. They dumped all their clothes in Wes’ gym bag and got into his truck in nothing but wet underwear. ‘Uncomfortable’ could not even begin to explain the atmosphere. I couldn’t even be bothered to appreciate all the hot, semi-naked bodies surrounding me when I was still reeling over what the hell just happened. I’d already seen all of them shirtless before at least once, but I had yet to see Froy’s business. Did he prefer boxers or briefs? Was he a shower or a grower? It didn’t seem that important. All I knew was that Wes was thick and hung like a motherfucker. “This has to be our secret, got it?” Wes said. “No one else can know about this.” We all agreed. None of us were in the mood to get dissected or experimented on for the rest of our lives. As Wes drove away, heading to his condo, I took one last look back at the scene. The meteor looked like a cracked egg that got blown up in a microwave. However, what seemed strange to me was how there seemed to be a lot less slime than before. What used to be a complete sheet of glowing green slime over everything was now mostly back to normal with some freckles here and there. It must have either dissipated in the atmosphere or got absorbed into the ground. Either way, it didn’t seem like that was just going to end there. I could feel in my gut that this wasn’t the last time this meteor was going to be a part of our lives. If the slime did get absorbed in the ground and trees, then what would happen with humans? There was no way they didn’t at least absorb some of it. There was just no way. Regardless, this was going to be our secret from now on. It seemed our little threesome just became a foursome.
  24. BigBigger

    Teen-Muscle-Monster [GERMAN]

    Meine erste Muscle-Growth Geschichte. Leider komplett in Deutsch, da mein Schreib-Englisch echt schlecht ist. Ich hoffe dennoch, dass sie gefällt! ___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Mein Leben als Muskel-Monster 1. Tag der Ferien Es war der letzte Schultag vor den Sommerferien als ich, mal wieder, heulend nach Hause kam. Eigentlich dachte ich, in der Oberstufe würde alles anders werden, aber die 11. und 12. Klasse war noch immer der Horror. Mobbing und üble Späße der sogenannten „Klassenkameraden“ waren an der Tagesordnung. Warum? Das wusste ich selbst nicht. Weder war ich „der dicke Nerd“, noch die „Bohnenstange“ oder sonst was. Ich war einfach nur David. Mit 1,90m vielleicht eigentlich ganz groß und mit knapp 78kg vielleicht etwas pummelig, aber nicht zwingend das typische Feindbild der coolen Kids. Meine Eltern waren noch auf der Arbeit und ich ging also in mein Zimmer, machte den Rechner an und versuchte die letzten Stunden einfach zu vergessen. Jan und Sven, die Anführer der Mobber hatten.... ach... eigentlich auch egal. Sie hatten jeden Tag irgendwas gemacht. Ich surfte also bei Tumblr, Deviantart und Co und schaute mir die Bilder von den muskulösen Männern an. Ja, natürlich. Ich war schwul. Vielleicht reichte das den beiden Idioten auch schon aus um mir das Leben zur Hölle zu machen. Wenn ich so Musklen hätte. 2m groß wäre und ein mega Ding in der Hose.... dann würden die sich aber umschauen. Genau als ich dies dachte poppte eine Werbung auf. War ja klar, dachte ich. Anhand meines Surf-Verhaltens waren ja immer zur passenden Zeit die richtigen Ads da. „Du willst Muskeln? Eine haarige Brust? Einen großen Schwanz? Dann bist du hier richtig? Nur zwei Klicks entfernt!“ Das alles und natürlich noch viel, viel mehr, verprach mir die blau-leuchtende Reklame. Es war wohl eine Mischung aus Verzweiflung und der aufkeimenden Idee ein Musklen-Monster zu werden, das mich die Anzeige anklicken ließ. Es folgten diverse Bilder von echt hübschen, großen und gut bestückten Männern bevor ich einen Fragebogen ausfüllen sollte. Wie groß bist du? Wie groß willst du werden? Gewünschtes Gewicht? Fettanteil? Penis Länge? Wunschlänge? ... und noch viel mehr. Ich füllte alles artig aus (oder besser gesagt, ziemlich geil und übertrieb ein bisschen) und kam an die Stelle, wo ich eine Telefonnummer oder Mail Adresse eingeben musste. Kurz überlegte ich und die Geilheit stach die Vernunft aus. Ich gab alles an. Es folgte sogleich eine Whatsapp: „Vielen Dank für Ihre Eingaben. Ihr Auftrag wird in Kürze bearbeitet.“ Oho... eventuell hatte ich jetzt doch Probleme. Wenn ich jetzt was bestellt hatte... meine Eltern... Oh. Mein. Gott.Panik machte sich breit, als ich aber drohte durchzudrehen kam eine weitere Whatsapp: „Lieber David. Wir haben dein Anliegen geprüft und können dir die Freigabe erteilen. Die Anpassungen werden wir vornehmen und in einem Zeitraum von 4-6 Wochen zur Verfügung stellen. Die Teilnahme an diesem Services ist aus bekannten Gründen für dich 100% kostenfrei. Wir würden uns freuen, wenn du uns weiterempfiehlst.“ Verwirrung machte sich breit. Sollte das ganze doch funktionieren? Ernsthaft? Es wirkte zu seriös. Oder machte sich da jemand einen Spaß draus, Leute zu verarschen? Ich war unsicher, aber auch ein bisschen geil und so beendete ich den Nachmittag mit einer ausführlichen Jack-Off-Session. Immer mit dem Bild von mir als Heavy-Weight-Bodybuilder vor Augen. Am nächsten Morgen war schon wieder alles vergessen und auch die erste Woche der Ferien war herrlich unspektakulär. Andere Kids verabredeten sich, ich spielte „League of Legends“ und „Overwatch“ mit Internet-Freunden. Denen war es egal, auf wen ich scharf war, solange ich gut war. Die 2. Woche Es war in der zweiten Woche, als ich nach dem Duschen mich mal wieder auf die Waage stellte und diese auf 83kg sprang. Ok... vielleicht hatte ich beim Spielen ein wenig viel Chips gefuttert. Ein genauerer Blick in den Spiegel zeigte mir aber, dass mein Bauch sogar flacher wirkte. War meine Brust definierter? Und... waren da Brusthaare zu sehen? Sogleich meldete ich die Erinnerung an die Anzeige und einen Augenblick später stand ich mit einem Latte im Bad. Ich fing an dümmlich zu grinsen in freudiger Erwartung, was da alles kam. Dieses verflog aber recht schnell, als ich mir nur ein paar der fiktiven Werte in den Kopf rief. Oh fuck. Die 4. Woche Ich machte langsam die Augen auf und stöhne leicht. Es war unerträglich heiß die Nacht gewesen und ich hatte – zum ersten Mal in meinem Leben – komplett nackt geschlafen. Aber langsam konnte ich mir das auch leisten. Ich wuchtete mich aus dem Bett hoch und wankte schlaftrunken Richtung Bad. Dort angekommen stieg ich zuerst auf die Waage. 103kg. Die Zahl war etwas schwer zu erkennen, da meine Penis... (ich musste mich noch des Wortes Schwanz ein wenig erwehren) mit seinen nun harten 18cm einen Teil der Zahlen verdeckte. Es folgte ein Blick in den Spiegel. Ich sah aus, als ob ich nichts anderes machen würde als Gewichte zu stemmen. Ich hatte langsam schon ein gut sichtbares SixPack, definierte Brust, großen Biceps, schmale Taille und wuchtige Beine. Als Bonus oben drauf: Haarige Brust, 3-Tage-Bart und markantes Kinn. Ich würde Jan und Sven fertig machen und dann in Grund und Boden ficken. Ich vermutete, dass das erhöhte Testosteron mich so denken lies.... Ich hoffte es zumindest. Meinen Eltern schien die Veränderung nicht aufzufallen. Auch nicht, als ich sie innerhalb kürzester Zeit schon wieder um Geld für neue Klamotten bat. Ich bekam 200 € und durfte Shoppen gehen. Langsam verabschiedete ich mich auch von Shirt von C&A und ging zu lässigen Tanktops und Sportbekleidung über. Einfach nur geil. Die letzte Ferienwoche Langsam kamen mir Zweifel. So geil dieser Körper auch war, so sehr fing er auch an mir Probleme zu bereiten. Mein Gewicht lag bei 146kg. Meine Abs konnte ich nur noch im Spiegel anschauen, da meine Brust zu wuchtig war. Mein Hintern war gigantisch und sorgte dafür, dass in jeder Unterhose mein Schwanz so aussah, als ob ich einen Fußball schmuggeln wollte. Ok... bei schlaffen 25cm ist das auch gar nicht so weit hergeholt. Aber Kleidung wurde langsam echt ein Problem. Tanktops waren ganz ok, aber für die Schule? Und meine Trainings-Hotpants? Die überließen nichts der Fantasie. Auch teilte mir mein Vater in einem ersten Gespräch mit, dass meine Sportsucht meinen Eltern Sorge bereitet. Er meinte, er kenne nicht viele 17-jährige mit meinen Ausmaßen. Weiterhin müssten sie schauen, da ich wohl einen mehr als gesunden Appetit an den Tag lege würde. Die Lebenshaltungskosten seien enorm gestiegen. Ich hatte übertriebe, aber der Gedanke daran Jan und Sven eins auszuwischen war es mir wert. Ich sagte meinem Vater, dass ich langsam machen würde im Studio und mir einen Nebenjob suchen würde. Vielleicht als Porno-Darsteller. Das, war zum Glück nur gedacht. Der erste Schultag Oberstufe. 13. Klasse. Ich war eine Stunde vor dem Wecker bereits wach und machte mich fertig. Ich hatte mein Outfit wohl überlegt und musste nun an die Details gehen. Mein finales Gewicht lag bei 151kg bei 8% Körperfett. Ich hatte angefangen seit Woche 4 mir einen Bart wachsen zu lassen und hatte nun einen dichten Vollbart, den ich nochmal in Form brachte. Das war durch meinen gigantischen Biceps gar nicht so einfach. Meine Hose war eine Skinny-Jeans die wie eine zweite Haut an meinen Beinen anlag und man die Outline von meinem Schwanz gut sehen konnte. Darüber kam ein Long-Tee mit weitem Ausschnitt. Ich verdeckte also die Kontur von meinem Gemächt (ein bisschen) und man konnte die trainierte, haarige Brust sehen. Ich zog mir noch meine Schuhe an, was bei meiner Größer und Umfang auch ein bisschen schwerer war , und ging runter zum Frühstück. Ein letzter Blick in den großen Spiegel im Flur. Ich sah aus wie ein 17-jähigers Testosteron-Monster, das jede freie Minute im Fitnessstudio verbrachte und einen mehr als gesegneten Genpool hat. Zeit Sven und Jan hallo zu sagen und sich auf ein tolles, letztes Schuljahr zu freuen.
  25. arpeejay

    Come to Me: Conclusion

    By Richard Jasper Part 9 is here: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/15409-come-to-me-part-9/ Part 1 is here: Conclusion “Wow,” Jesse said, looking stunned. “Wow,” Eric echoed, rubbing his hands across the eight boulders, each the size of a shipping crate, that made up Heck’s abdominal wall. Heck’s massive phallus twitched. “Careful there, little fella,” Heck said, reverting to his usual conversational tone. “It’s been a long time.” Jesse was the first to recover. “So then what happened?” he asked. “What happened to Tsuxaloat?” Heck lifted his mammoth arms and raised his hands to the ceiling. “He started fading and then turning into what seemed like some kind of vapor,” Heck said. “Up and up he went, disappearing above. His last words, ‘You will know what to do.’” Heck’s chuckle threatened, Eric thought, to bring down the ceiling. He grabbed Jesse’s shoulders and hung on as a tsunami of muscle raced up and down Heck’s monstrous quads. “That was a damned lie,” Heck continued. “I didn’t have the foggiest idea of what I was supposed to do. But I sat here on the throne and then I knew.” His job, Heck said, was to grow. To become another Tzuxaloat. And when he was done growing, to find someone to succeed him in the Mountain. “I figure it took Tzuxaloat 300 years and a bit to become what he was when I saw him,” Heck pointed out. “My guess is that, even though he was a warrior prince, he wasn’t a huge man when he found the cave. By the time I found him, I was about twice the size of any of his Indio descendants. As far as I can tell, I am a couple of feet taller than he was and a couple of feet broader. And it’s only taken me 200 years.” By the time Heck was finished speaking, Eric was rock hard. Is that what lay in front of him? Was that the purpose of his life? Spending 200 years growing to monstrous size, all those years alone? “Who said I was alone?” Heck asked, once again demonstrating his ability to receive as well as send. “Over the past 20 decades I have had a steady stream of young men who have come and bathed in the pool, drunk from my fountain, and then emerged bigger, stronger, better, than they had any reason to be.” Eric heaved a sigh of relief, then saw Jesse looking at him. “Viejo, Hombre,” Jesse began… Heck looked down at the stud sitting in his lap and remembered Jesse’s ancestors and uncles and cousins, many of whom had visited him over the previous two centuries. “Si, pequeno?” Jesse cleared his throat. “How big were you when you came to the mountain?” Heck drummed his log-sized fingers on a kneecap the size of a golf cart. “That’s a good question and I can’t say I rightly know,” he replied. “Fine instrumentation for measuring this or that was hard to come by in those days. But I am guessing that I was a little bit shorter than Eric here, which made me exceedingly tall for the time, and about half his weight.” Eric’s eyes widened. “Half?!” Heck nodded. “Surely no more than that,” he said. “We just didn’t have as much food around in those days as you do now. I was pretty much about the biggest a man could get back that, not without turning into a porker, that is.” Jesse continued. “So in 200 years…” Heck’s massive member twitched again. “Eric here could be twice the size I am now.” Eric orgasmed, clutching Jesse to his mammoth chest. “Need – to – breathe!” Eric let go, then smiled sheepishly. “And what about me?” Jesse asked. Heck grinned. “I don’t rightly know, son,” he said. “Heretofore I would say take a dip in the pool, climb my cock and have a few licks, then go out and conquer the world. You’ll be the biggest, strongest, studliest man anyone has ever seen, maybe even as big as Eric here.” Eric could see it plain as day. “Or…” Jesse nodded. “Or maybe Eric needs some company,” he said. “Someone to keep the place tidy and to go fetch, uh, entertainment.” Heck scratched his chin. “Could be,” he said. “I don’t think it’s set in stone. You boys will figure it out. Now go take a dip in the pool. I think I need to stretch my legs a bit.” Eric and Jesse climbed down, shucked their clothes, and headed to the pool. Turning, they saw Heck standing tall, his vast arms outstretched. “I don’t know where I’m going,” he said. “But I’ll be watching. Take good care.” And with that he began to dissolve, his substance turning to vapor and vanishing into the ceiling. Jesse took Eric’s hand. “I love you, you know,” he said. Eric squeezed the big man’s hand, gently but firmly, as if he never intended to let go. “I know,” he said. “And I love you back. But…?” Jesse laughed. “Will I still love you when you’re 20 feet tall and have a 10 foot dick? Are you crazy! OF COURSE, I’ll love you!” He attached himself to Eric’s left nipple, causing an instantaneous rock hard erection. “And who knows,” he pondered. “Maybe we’ll need a second throne?!” Eric grinned. He liked that idea! He liked that idea A LOT! “Cum for me, babe,” he whispered in Jesse’s ear. “Cum for me.” THE END
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